marky star

Posts Tagged ‘shinjuku’

What does Ōkubo mean?

In Japanese History on March 9, 2017 at 3:03 am

大久保
Ōkubo (“great long term protector,” more at “really low valley”)

station

Ōkubo Station. I’m having a flashback to a bad hookup from years ago…

In our recent trip around the stations of the Yamanote Line, we found ourselves at a certain station called 新大久保 Shin-Ōkubo, literally New Okubo. In that article, I decided to get into some racial/political musings, rather than focus on history. My rational was simple. I wanted to dedicate a whole article on this place name and the area’s history outside of the context of the train system. I also knew that it wasn’t going to be a short and sweet project.

This story is messy, though. I’m gonna do my best to present it in an organized fashion, but it’s probably gonna jump around a little bit. There are multiple narratives that intersect. And let’s be honest. Neither history nor linguistics are actually narratives. We just like to wrap them up in pretty packages and sell them as such because it’s just easier that way.

yotsuya

The Yotsuya Checkpoint

To start things off, I want to be clear that this area wasn’t Edo. West of Edo Castle was all suburbs. The first shogun, Tokugawa Ieyasu, strategically relocated many of his 旗本 hatamoto direct retainers out here. He gave some of them extraordinarily large fiefs for their rank[i] and charged them with the defense of the roads coming into his capital. Very much a Sengoku Period general, he rightly assumed that attacks from the sea in the east would be unlikely, but a land based attack from the west could prove a threat[ii]. One of the main entrances to the city was the 四谷大木戸 Yotsuya Ōkido Yotsuya Checkpoint on the 甲州街道 Kōshū Kaidō Kōshū Highway which was in this area. This area, by the way, was known not as Edo, but as 武蔵国豊多摩郡 Musashi no Kuni Toyotama-gun Toyotama District, Musashi Province in those days[iii].

四谷大木戸跡碑.jpg

All thar remains of the Yotsuya Ōkido is… well, nothing remains of the Yotsuya Ōkido, but there is this stupid monument.

First, Let’s Look at the Kanji


ō, dai/tai

big, great


hisashii, ku/kyū

a long time


tamotsu, ho/

protect

This place name, while seemingly auspicious on the surface, is generally believed to have quite humble roots[iv]. You see, a river called the 蟹川 Kanigawa[v] used to flow through the area between Kabukichō 1-2 chōme 1st & 2nd blocks of Kabukichō and Shinjuku 6-7 chōme 6th & 7th blocks of Shinjuku[vi]. By their very nature, rivers tend to be in geographic depressions, which made this area good for farming, but prone to flooding[vii]. This part of Toyotama seems to have been no different. At the area dividing Nishi-Ōkubo West Ōkubo and Higashi-Ōkubo East Ōkubo, there was a particularly noticeable drop in elevation, an 大きな窪地 ōki na kubochi[viii], if you will. If the story is to be believed, the locals called it an 大窪地 ōkubochi which was eventually reduced to ōkubo.

tokyo-tower-5-colors

Shiki no Michi in Shinjuku

Do you know 四季の道 Shiki no Michi 4 Seasons Trail? That’s the tree-lined foot path that winds from 靖国通り Yasukuni Dōri to ゴールデン街 Gōruden Gai Golden-gai, one of the last remaining Shōwa Era shanty towns in Tōkyō. That tranquil part of Shinjuku is actually a short stretch of the old Kanigawa river course. So, next time you go to Golden-gai, impress your friends by dropping a little knowledge bomb on their asses[ix].

That Spelling, Tho.

Any of you living in Japan will have probably been thinking something this whole time: Ōkubo is a common Japanese family name, and furthermore this hypothetical 大窪 Ōkubo looks nothing like the name 大久保 Ōkubo.

And you would be correct, my friends. They’re nothing alike. What we’re most likely looking at here is another case of 当て字 ateji kanji used for phonetic reasons, not meaning[x]. If the etymology given is true, that 2-kanji combination essentially means “mini-valley” or “crappy place at the bottoms of the hill that floods a lot.” It’s a terrible name for a place. On the hand, 大久保 Ōkubo “longtime protector” has a pretty good ring to it.

okubo clan family crest

Ōkubo clan coat of arms.

The name – common today – 大久保家 Ōkubo-ke Ōkubo Family is a distinctly samurai name of rather high pedigree[xi]. They were a branch of the 宇都宮氏 Utsunomiya-shi Utsunomiya Clan which could trace their lineage back to the 900’s. The founders of this new branch were among the most loyal retainers of 松平弘忠 Matsudaira Hirotada. In case you don’t recognize that name, he was the father of the first Edo shogun, 徳川家康 Tokugawa Ieyasu.

odawara castle okubo clan.jpg

Reconstructed Odawara Castle 2.0. Odawara Castle 1.0, controlled by the Late Hōjō clan was destroyed by Toyotomi Hideyoshi’s forces in 1590, which led to Tokugawa Ieyasu receiving most of Kantō as his fief. The castle is worth a visit if you’re on you’re way to Hakone.

Later, the Ōkubo clan served Ieyasu well. In fact, the second family head, a certain 大久保忠世 Ōkubo Tadayo, served in nearly all Ieyasu’s military campaigns and even commanded his corps of bodyguards. After Ieyasu had secured the title of shogun, he elevated Tadayo to daimyō status gave him 小田原藩 Odawara-han Odawara Domain[xii]. This meant the Odawara clan controlled the 箱根関所 Hakone Sekisho Hakone Check Point as well as 箱根山 Hakone Yama Mt. Hakone, a region famous in Japanese mythology and renowned for its natural hot springs, beautiful lakes and coastal areas.

Odawara, Mt. Hakone, and the Ōkubo clan have nothing to do with this suburb of Edo.

Or Do They?

No, they don’t. Well, not much.

mt hakone

Mt. Hakone

So, I started out telling you about what a dump the area was before the Edo Period. Then we talked about how some random daimyō family who spelled their name the same way the modern place name is spelled. I even added that they were fiercely loyal to the Tokugawa shōgunate. What I didn’t say was that the Ōkubo clan didn’t live anywhere near this area. In fact, to my knowledge there’s no direct connection between this area and the Ōkubo of Odawara. There are, however, some striking coincidences.

Further Reading:

nobunaga's armor

Warlord Oda Nobunaga’s real armor.

Ieyasu’s Bodyguards

With all of that in mind, let’s look at the story of the shōgun’s body guards. And unfortunately to do that, we’re gonna hafta look at some other events in history[xiii]. I’m assuming you know who 織田信長 Oda Nobunaga was, but if you don’t, please read about him here.

So, here we are, starting off at the most dramatic moments of the Sengoku Period. In 1582, the first of the three great unifiers of Japan, warlord Oda Nobunaga was surprise attacked by one of his one generals, a certain 明智光秀 Akechi Mitsuhide[xiv]. Nobunaga, like no general before him, was poised to consolidate the 天下 tenka realm[xv], or we can just say “the country.” Nobunaga seemed to have the whole country in his grasp… and then suddenly, he didn’t.

honno-ji.jpg

The attack at Honno-ji was apparently carried about by a bunch of dudes with shitty mustaches.

In a single act of treachery, Mitsuhide successfully attacked and killed[xvi] Nobunaga at 本能寺 Honnō-ji in 京都 Kyōto. In the ensuing chaos, Nobunaga’s closest generals dispersed to figure out what the fuck was going on. To this day, historians still speculate about Mitsuhide’s motivation.

Despite being victims of Nobunaga’s military power grabs, a small faction of samurai from 伊賀国 Iga no Kuni Iga Province and 甲賀郡 Kōka-gun Kōka District came to the aid of one of Nobubaga’s wiliest generals. When shit went down, these samurai from Iga and Kōka helped escort Tokugawa Ieyasu’s army from 堺 Sakai[xvii] back to their base in 岡崎Okazaki[xviii]. They used their local connections to lead the warlord to safety, quickly and quietly.

Further Reading:

Tokugawa_Ieyasu2.JPG

Ieyasu Becomes Shōgun

The Iga samurai served Ieyasu in several other military actions leading up to 1590, when the sitting imperial regent, or 関白 kanpaku, Hideyoshi granted Ieyasu rights to the 関八州 Kanhasshū 8 Kantō Provinces, which included a certain fortified village known as 江戸 Edo.
In autumn of that same year, Ieyasu transferred his most trusted retainers from his ancestral lands in 三河国 Mikawa no Kuni Mikawa Province to Musashi Province and the surrounding areas. When he entered 江戸城 Edo-jō Edo Castle, he had a huge task ahead of him. Namely, to modernize the outdated castle – which was more of a fort than a castle. He also needed to make it reflect his status as one of the most powerful daimyō in Japan who controlled 8 massive eastern provinces. But for our story, he also brought the clans from Iga and Kōka[xix] to Edo.

These two groups are closely tied into the narrative of 忍者 ninja and 忍術 ninjutsu, the art of stealth[xx], but we’re not getting into the whole ninja thing today. Anyhoo, once they arrived in Edo, they were assigned to very specific jobs. First, they served as a security detail[xxi] of the burgeoning castle town. Certain members were made security guards within the 本丸 honmaru innermost citadel of the castle, including many of the gates lining the inner moats of the castle, the so called 丸之内 maru no uchi[xxii].

daimyo alley

Daimyo Alley is a street that still exists (unofficially) in Tōkyō’s Marunouchi district. This street runs from Sukiyabashi to Tōkyō Station. In the Edo Period, it went a bit farther than the Wadakura Gate to the Ōte Gate.

In those early years, these groups served as police forces within Edo Castle, which was – and I can’t say this enough – a city within a city. Some even served as guards to the innermost section of the honmaru, the 大奥 Ō-oku the women’s quarter[xxiii]. To my understanding, part of their job seems to have been internal espionage, searching for treasonous rumors and plots circulating among the 外様大名 tozama daimyo, the so-called “outer lords,”[xxiv] who were forced to stay in Edo as hostages of the shōgun under the earliest incarnation of 参勤交代 sankin-kōtai or the policy of alternate attendance[xxv].

Iemitu.jpg

3rd shōgun Tokugawa Iemitsu had strong jaw muscles – all the better for you know what…

In 1642, the 3rd shogun 徳川家光 Tokugawa Iemitsu made sankin-kōtai a policy for all daimyo, including the 譜代大名 fudai daimyō, the “inner lords” who were considered the most loyal to the Tokugawa. At this same time, the Kōka samurai and Iga samurai were reorganized into special units called the 甲賀百人鉄砲隊 Kōka Hyakunin Teppō-tai[xxvi] and the 伊賀百人鉄砲隊 Iga Hyakunin Teppō-tai, the Kōka 100 Member Musket Corps and Iga 100 Member Musket Corps, respectively. In addition, there were 2 other squadrons, the 根来百人鉄砲隊 Negoro Hyakunin Teppō-tai Negoro 100 Member Musket Corps and the 二十五騎百人鉄砲隊 Nijūgoki Hyakunin Teppō-tai Nijūgoki 100 Member Musket Corps. In common parlance, all groups were referred to by the abbreviated term 百人組 Hyakunin-gumi 100 Men Corps.

Imperial Palace

The Hyakunin Bansho

The 4 squadrons of 100 men each took turns manning the 百人番所 Hyakunin Bansho, a modest checkpoint located between 大手御門 Ōte Go-mon Ōtemon (the main gate) and the honmaru where the shōgun lived[xxvii]. Out of all the castle structures lost to fires, earthquakes, and war, it’s curious that this building survived. Furthermore, one can imagine that by the middle of great peace of the Edo Period, there was really no need for ninja of the sort that we see in video games or the occasional movie. I imagine the Hyakunin-gumi groups manning the Hyakunin Bansho to be like… well, have you ever gone onto a military base? There’s some dude in uniform, fully armed and trained who will check your ID and determine whether you’re a legit person to let on to the premises. That’s basically what happened at the Hyakunin Bansho. They were hereditary security guards.

zozyoji231 (1)

Former grandeur of the Tokugawa funerary temple Zōjō-ji in Shiba, near Tōkyō Tower.

Furthermore, whenever the shōgun and his entourage visited the family funerary temples of 寛永寺 Kan’ei-ji and 増上寺 Zōjō-ji, it was the Hyakunin-gumi who guarded the entrances and exits of the temple complexes.

These four groups were garrisoned in present day Omotesandō, Aoyama, Harajuku, and Shinjuku. But it’s the squadron based in Shinjuku that is relevant to our narrative. This group was the Iga Hyakunin-gumi and they were based in Ōkubo. In fact, present day 新大久保駅 Shin-Ōkubo Eki Shin-Ōkubo Station is in 新宿区百人町一丁目 Shinjuku-ku Hyakunin-chō Icchōme 1st block of Hyakunin Town, Shinjuku Ward. It was in this area that the 100 Member Musket Corps lived their day to day lives.

Further Reading:

13402250_1054023804684587_824049163_n

The post town of Naitō Shinjuku

The Plot Thickens…

OK, I hate to do this, but let’s go back to 1590, when Ieyasu entered Edo with his retainers from Mikawa. As I mentioned before, he brought non-Mikawa samurai with him as well – the Kōka and Iga warriors being the case in point.

Ieyasu didn’t garrison these specialized groups willy-nilly. He, like his son and grandson, were extremely cautious and aware of the military strategies of the Sengoku Period. They left nothing to chance when it came to defense of their capital, having learned so much from the stupid mistakes of the losers of the Warring States Era.

The gunnery corps came to Edo when Ieyasu entered the city in 1590 and they were led by a certain 内藤清成 Naitō Kiyonari and 青山忠成 Aoyama Tadanari. They served as Ieyasu’s vanguard and also oversaw the manufacture of ammunition. He stationed the squad in 四谷 Yotsuya, the westernmost perimeter of Edo Castle, and ordered the construction of the residence of the 組頭 kumigashira commander of the Hyakunin-gumi in Ōkubo.

Longtime readers should recognize the name Naitō from the story of Shinjuku. The Naitō clan, originally mere retainers of the shogun, though later raised to daimyo status, were placed here – in the boonies – for a very strategic reason. Should Edo Castle be attacked and face imminent capitulation to an enemy, the Hyakunin-gumi were to escort the shōgun out of Edo Castle’s west-facing 半蔵御門 Hanzō Go-mon Hanzō Gate[xxviii] along the 甲州街道 Kōshū Kaidō Kōshū Highway to 甲府城 Kōfu-jō Kōfu Castle in present day 山梨県 Yamanashi-ken Yamanashi Prefecture. So, yeah. These guys were elite security guards in the heart of Edo Castle who lived out in the sticks, and they were entrusted with one of the single most important jobs an Edo Period samurai could have: protecting the shōgun in the event he needed to escape from his capital.

kofu castle

CG version of Kōfu Castle’s inner citadels superimposed over the modern city. It was way more rustic in those days.

They served the shōgunate until 1862, when the Hyakunin-gumi were decommissioned. Presumably this was the result of the government running out of money as it was collapsing. That said, certain members were still kept as a security detail. They just didn’t need all 400 of them anymore. Their weaponry was out of date and the traditional defense tactics were quickly becoming obsolete in light of all the new western technology. The last official act of the remaining Hyakunin-gumi was after the last shōgun 徳川慶喜 Tokugawa Yoshinobu formally transferred power to the imperial court. At that time, he sent a group of them to Shizuoka to secure the route to what would eventually become his retirement estate.

Further Reading:

kabukicho

Kabukichō today…

Then and Now

If you said Ōkubo in the Edo Period, you were referring to a huge suburb that was composed of present day Kabukichō 2-chōme, Shinjuku 6-7-chōme, Ōkubo 1-2-3-chōme, Hyakunin-chō 1-2-3-chōme, Yochō Machi, and Nishi-Shinjuku 7-chōme. That’s a huge area. The Naitō clan, as mentioned earlier, were given a residence out here. Furthermore, the 尾張徳川家 Owari Tokugawa-ke Owari Tokugawa Family had a property out here called the 戸山山荘 Toyama Sansō Toyama Hillside Retreat which was part of an elaborate garden they constructed.

hakoneyama.jpg

The peak of Shinjuku’s Mt. Hakone as it looks today

The garden featured a man made mountain commonly referred to as 箱根山 Hakone Yama Mt. Hakone because they fancied it a representation of the real Mt. Hakone… which, as also mentioned earlier, was just a hop, skip, and a jump away from Odawara, the fief of the Ōkubo. If you go to present day 戸山公園 Toyama Kōen Toyama Park, you’re standing on the ruins of the Owari Tokugawa’s 下屋敷 shimo-yashiki lower residence. If you go to the highest hill in the park, you’re standing on this so-called Mt. Hakone.

I can’t confirm this, but by at least one account I read that this is actually the highest hill in the 23 Wards of Tōkyō[xxix]. True or not, if anyone had the money to build a crazy artificial Mt. Hakone in the outskirts of Edo, it would’ve been the Owari Tokugawa[xxx].

yabusame

Located near the park is a shrine called 穴八幡宮 Ana Hachiman-gū. In the Edo Period, this was called 高田八幡宮 Takada Hachiman-gū. Long time readers of the blog should recognize the name Takada from 高田馬場 Takada no Baba the Takada Horse Grounds, which were located an easy walking distance from this area. Every October, the shrine puts on a 流鏑馬 yabusame horseback mounted archery festival in the park, where competitors dress in full samurai armor and race past a target at full speed and try to hit it. This was a totally unnecessary skill in the Edo Period, just as it is today, but dude… it looks so fucking bad ass. I highly recommend you check it out if you can.

Oh, and Toyama Park is famous among locals for 花見 hanami cherry blossom viewing and not famous among non-locals, which means it’s not so crowded. Apparently, it’s also a good spot for PokemonGO. Go figure.

Further Reading:

IMG_4527.jpg

Hmmmmm…

So this has been a lot to take in, right?

kanigawa river shinjuku

If you ever thought Golden-gai seemed like a dirty alley without a train, well, here’s your moment of zen.

I could have stuck to the “dumpy valley gets an upgrade via ateji that makes it sound not just noble, but like a retainer of the shogun” narrative. But, that’s not what I do, and the story is really much more nuanced – or at least has become more confused over the centuries. But I’ll put it this way: one would think that the Samurai Museum in the heart of Shinjuku’s red light district was out of place. But considering all this… it actually makes a lot of sense.

IMG_5094

Kaichū Inari Shrine

Strong Ties to Kaichū Inari

As mentioned before, all four 100 Men Squadrons were gunners by default. As such, they were expected to be expert shots.

The Hyakunin-gumi developed a close attachment to a certain shrine near their barracks. One night, an avatar of the god 稲荷大明神 Inari Daimyōjin appeared at the bedside of one of the samurai and gave him special talisman. The next day, while shooting at the archery range[xxxi], he hit every target perfectly. When the other samurai of his barracks saw this, they decided to have a shooting competition and passed the talisman around. Everyone one hit every single target without fail.

last samurai bullshit

Many people believe samurai rejected guns until Tom Cruise introduced them to the country in “The Last Samurai.”

It’s a Freakin’ a Miracle! 

The surrounding villagers heard the story of the Hyakunin-gumi becoming experts at archery and gunnery overnight, and naturally wanted to get in on the action. Who doesn’t want to be a winner? They came to pray to Inari at the shrine and in time came to call the 神 kami diety 皆中之稲荷 Kaichū no Inari which can also be read as Mina Ataru no Inari Hitting all the Targets Inari or Everyone’s Bulls Eye Inari. For non-samurai, and for modern people, this shrine became associated with gambling. Unironically, there’s a large pachinko parlor right around the corner. I’m sure that’s good for the shrine business of selling お守り o-mamori talismans[xxxii].

omamori

Hyakunin-gumi talisman from Kaichū Inari Shrine

In patronage to Kaichū Inari Shrine, the Iga Hyakunin-gumi often gave gifts to the priests, mainly firearms. The shrine, which was much larger back then, amassed a sizeable and valuable collection of expensive weapons over the course of the Edo Period. Unfortunately, all of the shrine complex except for the main structure was destroyed in the Firebombing of Tōkyō by American forces in WWII. Their priceless collection of muskets donated by the Hyakunin-gumi and many documents and other items related to the squad went up in flames.

tsutsuji.jpg

Azaleas. You probably didn’t see this coming…

Azaleas

As if there aren’t enough layers to this story, I’m gonna hafta talk about flowers. When the Naitō clan and the Hyakunin-gumi were transferred out to these suburbs at the beginning of the Edo Period, there were wild 躑躅 tsutsuji azaleas growing everywhere. While many of the gunnery corps were living in barracks, a good deal had proper residences and cultivated azaleas in their private gardens[xxxiii]. Public spaces where azaleas grew were also well known by the end of the Edo Period, and the streets were lined with these colorful flowers. In fact, a few years after 大久保駅 Ōkubo Eki Ōkubo Station opened in 1895 – 1899 (Meiji 32), to be precise – the emperor visited the area to enjoy the azaleas. Doing what emperors do, he wrote a poem:

まがねしく
maganeshiku
道のひらけて
michi no hirakete
つつじ見に
tsutsuji mi ni
ゆく人おほし
yuku hito ohoshi
大久保の里
Ōkubo no sato

Ōkubo Village
where so many people go
to see tsutsuji
developing into
iron roads to the future

I’m not even going to pretend to have translated that poem well[xxxiv]. But the emperor was referring to Japan’s modernization, which he was the figurehead of – rather than the shogun. So, there’s a propaganda aspect to this poem[xxxv], but it’s overall positive and I think it has a sort of conciliatory tone – one that reflects the new imperial governments acceptance of poor and middle class samurai back into fold.

His poem talks about the blooming azaleas, a clear reference to the country opening up to the world and starting a new national venture. As the emperor, this kind of message was crucial to the common people who had no say in the politics of the day, those people who were just being dragged along for the ride. He also uses the word 開ける hirakeru which literally means “to be opened up” or “improve,” but has a secondary meaning of “to become civilized” or “become enlightened.”

Ōkubo was the boonies, but now it was becoming a major section of the new capital. The azalea business was booming because now people could sell them[xxxvi]. Metal was part of the path to the future, it was also the tool and trade of the samurai living in the area. They gave up their iron guns which gave them power to a new world order where iron train tracks connected the country as it had never been before. It put Japan in the same company as western countries that had blossoming economies based on railroads.

You have to admit, the emperor was pretty slick in his wording.

mural

Mural of the Hyakunin-gumi near Shin-Ōkubo Station.

So Where’s This Awesome Shooting Range Today?

By now you’ve probably assumed the shooting range doesn’t exist anymore, as the story usually goes in Tōkyō. And, sadly, you would be correct. It’s long gone.

But actually, not as long gone as you might think.

If you’ve been reading this long, convoluted story up to this point, then you remember that there were horse riding and archery grounds in the area that’s now called Takada no Baba. A short distance from there, near present day Toyama Park[xxxvii], there used to be wide open fields called the 戸山ヶ原 Toyama ga Hara Toyama Fields. This is where the Takada Horse Grounds were, and it’s also where the Hyakunin-gumi had their shooting range.

aerial.jpg

This aerial shot gives you an idea of the size of the shooting range.

After the Meiji Coup, the plot of land was appropriated by the Imperial Army to be used as a… wait for it… shooting range. New recruits to the army also practiced marching here. Because marching. Yay 🙄

Under the new regime, the 大日本帝国 Dai-Nippon Teikoku Great Empire of Japan, the space was expanded under the general term of the 戸山ヶ原陸軍射撃場 Toyamagahara Rikugun Shageki-ba Toyamagahara Shooting Range. Another name for the same facility was the 大久保小銃射撃場 Ōkubo shōjūshageki-ba Ōkubo Shooting Range[xxxviii].

shooting tunnels

Shooting tunnels in Toyamagahara

By the WWII era, the site was characterized by its very unique architectural design – namely, the 射撃隧道 shageki zuidō shooting tunnels. These were long, semicircular, hangar-esque tunnels designed for practicing marksmanship. I’m not sure why the tunnel shape were necessary… perhaps someone with a military background could explain. I’m guessing, if you’re doing target practice, maybe it’s best to do it without the sun in your eyes, and if you shoot inside a tunnel, the noise doesn’t disturb the neighbors, but I’ll admit, I’m not entirely sure. Any insight is appreciated.

Anyhoo, these tunnels were a part of the local landscape for years. Obviously, they were abandoned during the American Occupation, as the Imperial Army was abolished in that time. But the site didn’t just disappear overnight in 1945. In fact, the site stood there for about 20 more years, and the derelict shooting tunnels showed up as a location in the 1961 film, 夕陽に赤い俺の顔 Yūhi ni Akai Ore no Kao Killers on Parade.

The shooting range remained intact until 1967, when the derelict site – essentially a 廃墟 haikyo ghost town – was torn down in order to build the new main campus for 早稲田大学 Waseda Daigaku Waseda University. The school wasn’t new, it was actually established in 1882. But the new campus re-invigorated the university in the post war era, and it helped expand the growth in this old suburb of Edo.

waseda.jpg

Waseda cheerleaders

In Conclusion

So, we had a place name that just referred to what was essentially a flood plain. Whether that’s true or not, at some point people started writing it with a noble family’s name. Is there any connection between the Ōkubo clan and this Ōkubo? I don’t think so, but maybe some of the samurai stationed in this area, including the Owari Tokugawa clan might have preferred writing it a certain way.

All of that said… we can’t know. And what makes this story so interesting is all of the great stories surround the area. This is why the history of Edo-Tōkyō is so great. Even if we can’t pinpoint the etymological source of a place name, sometimes we can just bask in the area’s rich history.

3961928087_355c4bf95f_o

Historical re-enactment of the Hyakunin-gumi. Photo by friend Rekishi no Tabi. Check him out on Flickr for more cool pix of Japanese history and culture.

 

Help Support JapanThis!

Follow JapanThis! on Twitter
JapanThis! on Facefook
JapanThis! on Flickr
JapanThis! on Instagram
Support Support Every Article on Patreon
Donate via Paypal (msg via Facebook)
Donate with BitCoin (msg via Facebook)
Explore Edo-Tōkyō Do You Even History Geek, Bro?

 

 


[i] It was the boonies, so land was cheap, I guess.
[ii] It didn’t. But the Battle of Sekigahara in 1600 which resulted in Ieyasu’s elevation to shogun can be seen as a battle between east and west. Ironically, it was agitators from the southwest of Japan – descendants of the western losers – who marched to Edo in 1868 to finish off the Tokugawa hegemony.
[iii] Toyotama District referred to parts of modern day 渋谷区 Shibuya-ku Shibuya Ward, 中野区 Nakano-ku Nakano Ward, 杉並区 Suginami-ku Suginami Ward, 新宿区 Shinjuku-ku Shinjuku Ward.
[iv] But, as with many of our etymologies, is shrouded in mystery.
[v] Literally “crab river.” I couldn’t find any etymology info on the river.
[vi] You know 四季の道 Shiki no Michi the 4 Seasons Road, the windy tree-lined footpath that leads to ゴールデン街 Gōruden Gai Golden-gai? That’s part of the old Kanigawa course. The river was covered up so it could be used for cable car service, when that was discontinued, this area became a park. You can still walk the course of the river as its preserved as windy road running through Shinjuku.
[vii] This meant when Ieyasu & Co. arrived in Edo, garrisoning high ranking samurai in this area was problematic. This probably accounts for the granting of such large fiefs to non-daimyō in the area. The large land grants were incentives. A famous case is the Naitō clan.
[viii] Literally, a “big geographic depression.”
[ix] If you wanna take it to the next level, you can tell them this. Later, the river was covered up so it could be used for tram service. However, when that was discontinued, this area became a park.
[x] What is ateji? For those of you late to the party, here ya go!
[xi] To my understanding, it’s the 150th most common name with at least 138,000 people currently using it. Sure, it’s no 佐藤 Satō, 鈴木 Suzuki, 高橋 Takahashi, 田中 Tanaka, or 伊藤 Itō, but it’s still common. And yes, those are the top 5 Japanese surnames in descending order.
[xii] Ōkubo Tadayo’s father, 大久保忠員 Ōkubo Tadakazu, was given the castle by Ieyasu.
[xiii] And there’s a lot of “ninja” bullshit in this story and I’m going to try to not get bogged down in the whole ninja thing. #ihateninjas
[xiv] For right or wrong reasons, a name that rings in Japanese ears almost the same way Benedict Arnold does for Americans.
[xv] 天下 tenka – I use this term as a way to describe the potential unification of the samurai families and the families of the imperial court.
[xvi] Whether Mitsuhide’s army actually killed Nobunaga is unknown. Legend has it that Nobunaga killed himself and had the building he was staying in torched to prevent the taking of his head – taking of heads was a traditional samurai practice. Whether he was killed, killed himself, or was trapped in a burning building and died will never be known.
[xvii] Near 大阪 Ōsaka.
[xviii] In modern 愛知県 Aichi-ken Aichi Prefecture.
[xix] Who were not from his home province of Mikawa. Iga is in modern day 三重県 Mie-ken Mie Prefecture and Kōka is in present day 滋賀県 Shiga-ken Shiga Prefecture.
[xx] To my best understanding, ninja were just spies who happened to hold samurai rank. But because #iHateNinjas, it’s not so important to our narrative.
[xxi] Like a police force.
[xxii] Today, Marunouchi and Otemachi are the main remnants of these palace areas, and the outer moats don’t exist anymore.
[xxiii] Usually translated here and there as “the shōgun’s harem,” but this is a bit of an overstatement.
[xxiv] The daimyō who opposed Ieyasu at the Battle of Sekigahara and were forced to pledge fealty to him after his victory.
[xxv] You can read more about sankin-kōtai here.
[xxvi] Often rendered as Kōga Hyakunin-gumi when referring to ninja stuff for some reason.
[xxvii] Today, this is part of the East Gardens of the Imperial Palace.
[xxviii] 服部半蔵 Hattori Hanzō, an Iga native himself, was ordered to build a residence outside of this western gate. He handpicked the original iteration of the Iga Hyakunin-gumi.
[xxix] Like I said, I can’t confirm, but I’d love to see a good elevation map of Tōkyō to prove/disprove this remarkable claim.
[xxx] They were part of the 御三家 Go-sanke, the 3 Great Families who could provide a shōgunal heir by adoption, should the main Tokugawa line fail to produce a first-born son. Despite being – or perhaps, in spite of being of being – the richest of the 3 Great Families, the Owari Tokugawa were never tapped to produce an acceptable candidate for shōgun when the 御本家 go-honke main branch died out. Which happened twice. Anyways, suffice it to say, they had mad fuck you money and carried that tradition straight from the Edo Period right down to today.
[xxxi] The accounts are unclear as to whether he was practicing archery or riflery. My gut instinct says archery. I think the riflery allusions come from the Bakumatsu Period and Meiji Period.
[xxxii] Or is it talismen? (笑)
[xxxiii] Whether they were actually doing the gardening themselves is unclear. While they could have done gardening on their own property as a hobby is a possibility, I imagine most had servants/employees who did the dirty work. This was clearly just the Edo Period version of suburban Americans taking pride in their lawns.
[xxxiv] It’s not a literal translation by any stretch of the imagination. I was more concerned with conveying the meaning, the simplicity, and the 5-7-5-7-7 meter.
[xxxv] And I don’t blame him for it, actually. The rebels from Satsuma Domain, Chōshū Domain, and other treacherous domains forced the Meiji Emperor into the position of being a kind of logo or mascot for the new government. That said, dude was good at dragging archaic poetic forms into the new age. I gained a new respect for the Meiji Emperor after reading this poem. It has a depth I didn’t expect.
[xxxvi] Samurai weren’t technically allowed to sell things commercially under the shōgunate.
[xxxvii] The Mt. Hakone place…
[xxxviii] There are various combinations of these words, but all of them describe the same place.

Yamanote Line: Shin-Ōkubo

In Japanese History on May 12, 2016 at 5:52 pm

新大久保
Shin-Ōkubo

koiu eki na no da.jpg

こういう駅なんだなw

Welcome back to my series exploring Tōkyō’s famous Yamanote Line. So far we’ve visited 9 stations. That means we have 20 more stations to go![i]

Due to the nature of JapanThis!, one of the benefits of doing a series on loop train lines that go around the old city is that chances are I’ve already written about most of these places. I can give a few details here, point out an old article if you want more details, and move on to the next topic.

However, I’m sad to say that I haven’t yet covered 大久保 Ōkubo or its more famous cousin 新大久保 Shin-Ōkubo. It’s been put on the “to do list” for 2016, so I’ll give it an in depth exposé worthy of the area later. We’ll get into all the history then. I promise. But for today, we’re just going scratch the surface of the area immediately surrounding 新大久保駅 Shin-Ōkubo Eki, literally “New Ōkubo Station.”

Like other Japanese place names such as 中野 Nakano and 新中野 Shin-Nakano or 大阪 Ōsaka and 新大阪 Shin-Ōsaka, this 新~ shin- means “new” and is generally affixed to the names of bus stops and train stations to differentiate it from the original station. Yes, there is an Ōkubo Station that opened in 1895 (Meiji 28), but Shin-Ōkubo Station opened in 1914 (Taishō 3), ergo “New Ōkubo Station.”

There’s no history in this article. History geeks will have to wait until the official Shin-Ōkubo article comes out. Well, that’s not totally true, but…. you’ll see what I mean if you read to the end. I also think some people are going to get pissed off about some things I’m going to say.

korea town tokyo.jpg

You’ve spent some time learning Japanese and suddenly you’re presented with Hangul (Korean script) and you can’t read a word of it. No worries.

If I Get Off the Train at Ōkubo Station, What Can I Expect?

You can expect Korea Town.

k pop goods.jpg

Korea Town?

Did I stutter? Yes, Korea Town. There are quite a few areas in Tōkyō that could be considered Korea Towns, but the largest, most famous, and most deeply entrenched Korea Town is without a doubt Shin-Ōkubo.

jk relations.jpg

But I Thought Korea and Japan Hated Each Other…

I dunno, maybe their governments and some nationalistic fucksticks do, but open-minded and internationally-minded people in both countries generally feel a cultural bond[ii].  In fact, Korean food is extremely popular in Japan and Japanese food is extremely popular in Korea. But, while there are plenty of excellent Korean restaurants in Tōkyō, ground zero for all things Korean is Shin-Ōkubo[iii].

 

korean plastic surgery - possibly racist

Korea is famous for its widespread cultural acceptance (and some argue encouragement) of plastic surgery.

Where’d All These Korean Folks Come From?

When the Japanese Empire occupied 朝鮮 Chōsen Joseon (what is now modern South Korea and North Korea[iv]), many Koreans emigrated by force or by choice to Japan. However, after Tōkyō’s destruction by American firebombing raids at the end of WWII, many ethnic Korean families chose to stay and helped rebuild this section of Tōkyō and planted firm roots in the area. The result was a peculiarly Korean neighborhood that maintained a strong ethnic identity and generally manifested as a cluster of Korean restaurants, Korean speaking Japanese residents, Korean schools[v], and an access point to Korean media in the form of music, TV, and film.

kusanagi_kaiken

裸になって、何が悪い? It’s a timeless question…

When I first came to Japan in 2003, this was kind of a quiet area famous for Korean food – 삼겹살 samgyeopsal Korean BBQ, in particular[vi]. A few years later, there was a boom in Korean soft culture. Korean dramas, movies, and eventually pop music got huge in Japan. Restaurants got television spots and then Shin-Ōkubo became the place to go. For a time, it seemed like every other week, 草彅剛 Kusanagi Tsuyoshi, arguably one the most irritating members of the irritating boy band, SMAP, was on TV visiting restaurants in Shin-Ōkubo and giving his opinions about them. His Korean is apparently impeccable – he’s even interviewed a South Korean president – and every restaurant he gave a thumbs up to became an instant hot spot. The once sleepy Korea Town became one of the hottest spots for Tōkyōites who wanted to get as close as they could to Korea while they saved up to buy airplane tickets for the 2 hour flight to go to Real Korea. Restaurants that once had people on the street trying to drag in customers, now had 1-2 hour waiting lists and no reservation policies[vii]. The average Japanese person on the street, especially the average middle aged woman, was in love with Korea. Never mind what the asshole politicians were saying, the average person was enamored with Korea. Korean language schools were booming. Korean models, idols, and even history became a big thing here.

육개장

육개장 (Yukgaejang) is one of the most delicious soups in the world. High 5, Korea!

 

Trends are trends. Bubbles are bubbles. And politics, nationalism, and buffoonery run rampant all over this fine planet of ours. Korea was all the rage in Japan. That is until it wasn’t.

More precisely, until conservative agitators in Korea started playing the victim card and pointed at a contested territory – more like a quickly eroding cluster of rocks in the ocean, actually – bringing up an old claim that these “islands” were Korean and Japan was trying to hold on to its empire by claiming these “islands.”[viii] And I can’t blame Korea only. As soon as Korea started bitching, the conservatives in Japan’s government also started bitching.

abe shinzo 魚顔.jpg

魚顔 (sakana-gao) “fish face” is a apparently a requirement for Japanese parliament. That and having  a war criminal grandfather.

I’m keeping this territory dispute minimal because it’s super fucking boring. However, these grumblings happened around the same time China was grumbling about another cluster of contested rocks in the ocean[ix]. Both of these issues came up a lot in the mainstream Japanese news and the whole China/Korea/Japan bickering about shit that happened before most people born in Asia ever lived reached fever pitch. China sucks at exporting soft culture because, well, it’s China and it’s better at forging and plagiarizing than innovation. Korea, on the other hand, has a total cottage industry – learned from Japan – centered on pop culture, music, and visual media. In short, Japanese people aren’t interested in Chinese soft culture, but they couldn’t get enough Korean soft culture. This meant that when the territorial disputes flared up again, many people in Japan felt betrayed by Korea or became disinvested in Korean pop culture. Up to this point, many people had looked the other way while anti-Japanese conservatives from Korea were pushing to change the name of the Sea of Japan to the East Sea[x]. But that’s just one example.

liancourt.jpg

The Liancourt Rocks, as you can see, are just a cluster of stupid rocks.

It’s debatable, but I’d argue that the tipping point came when a certain South Korean soccer player named 박종우 Park Jong-woo got cocky during the 2012 Olympics and made a political statement violating Olympic rules by holding up a banner that basically said “The Liancourt Islands are Korean.” Park’s actions didn’t cause the Korea Town Boom to come crashing down, but it happened at a time when the political climate among Japan, Korea, and China were spiraling down, down, down. The Korean soft culture bubble had probably already burst, but this soccer player’s irresponsible behavior on a truly international stage and in direct conflict with the Olympics’ message of global peace and fair competition wasn’t lost on Japanese consumers. Consumers voted with their wallets.

korea nationalism soccer stupid.jpg

Meaningless rocks in the ocean. I’m all about that! (I also lost my shirt)

At the peak of the boom, K-Pop idols were releasing Korean and Japanese language editions. Korean performers weren’t just touring Japan regularly; they were participating in K-Pop festivals that brought all of the top Korean groups together in elaborate showcases. These days, only a handful of groups produce Japanese language editions – there isn’t any demand for them anymore. Korean TV dramas, originally fodder for lonely Japanese housewives and spinsters but later the preferred genre for females of all ages, have once again become a niche style associated with lonely women in their 30’s-40’s.

Thanks For All the Racism, But What Does This Have To Do With Shin-Ōkubo?!

Right, so let’s reframe everything I’ve told you because I don’t want people to finish reading this article and think, “Goddammit, Asia is fucking racist as fuck[xi].” I also don’t want you to think that Japan and Korea (and China, for that matter) are sworn enemies with fickle and petty feelings about each other[xii]. Governments are to blame. Media is to blame. And yeah, some individuals are to blame. The thing that I want to point out is that, Japan fully embraced Korean pop culture to such an extent that Korean record labels and production companies were customizing and localizing everything with Japan as a priority. Some K-Pop idol groups like 2NE1, were being promoted by Korean media as the next big global music phenomenon. Korea was huuuuuuuge for a few years, not only in Japan – but Japan was a portal from which K soft culture spilled over to the west like a metaphorical retweet. And in those years, getting into a good restaurant in Shin-Ōkubo on a weekend was a struggle.

I like some K-Pop, but I can get that stuff online. I also love Korean food, but that’s something I can’t download. When the bubble burst, Korea Town became accessible again. Shin-Ōkubo started to become cool again – old school cool. I wouldn’t have recommended this neighborhood 5 years ago, but I think it’s safe for me to say it’s worth checking out again these days.

 

Please Support My Blog

Follow me on Twitter
Follow me on Facebook
Follow me on Flickr

If you’re gonna be in Japan, let’s take a history tour together!
JapanThis! – Tours for History Nerds

Most Importantly:
You can donate and become a patron to support every new article
⇨ Click Here to Donate via Patreon ⇦
(this is the preferred method)

Paypal fans can contact me here

Bitcoin enthusiasts can also donate:
Ƀ: 1HsKqFBVbyKTwMF3rzCprdw7aYv13fbi2A

 

_______________________
[i] Actually, by 2020, there will be 30 stations. I’ll create a place marker article so we can discuss that when it happens.
[ii] Any animosity between the 2 countries tends to do with history as Japan took Korea and made it part of the 大日本帝国 Dai-Nippon Teikoku Empire of Japan. Easy to see why Korea may have some animosity.
[iii] But here’s a little secret for those of you who actually read the footnotes. The Embassy of South Korea is located in Minami Azabu and there is a small Korean supermarket and restaurant there that is famous for being authentic to the point of being boring to Koreans because it’s so authentic. Haven’t tried myself, but I’ve seen it and, yeah, it looks legit.
[iv] In Japanese, North Korea is called 北朝鮮 Kita Chōsen North Joseon using the old name, while South Korea is called 韓国 Kankoku, these reflect the names each modern country uses for itself.  Neither country thinks of itself as “North Korea” or “South Korea” – rather they are just the real Korea and the other is a poseur. North Korea uses the old name (which Japan also uses), 조선 Chosŏn (Chōsen in Japanese, Romanized as Joseon). South Korea uses 한국 Hanguk (Kankoku in Japanese, Romanized the same way).
[v] Including some with North Korean leanings.
[vi] Samgyeopsal is essentially 焼肉 yaki niku grilled meat, but Korean style. There’s some debate about whether samgyeopsal and yaki niku are the same thing. Personally, I don’t care. They’re both yummy and the Japanese version is clearly influenced by the Korean style, but it’s definitely not dependent on it.
[vii] Unless you booked a month or more in advance!
[viii] These useless, crappy sea rocks are called the Liancourt Rocks in English, 竹島 Takeshima Bamboo Islands in Japanese, and 독도 Dokdo Isolated Islands in Korean. In case I haven’t be clear enough, let me reiterate these are just a bunch of stupid rocks.
[ix] These being another cluster of stupid rocks claimed by not only Japan and China, but also Taiwan. Taiwan itself being claimed by China while claiming itself as independent.  The islands are called the 尖閣諸島 Senkaku Shotō Senkaku Islands in Japanese, 钓鱼岛及其附属岛屿 Diàoyúdǎo jí qí fùshǔ dǎoyǔ in China, and 釣魚台列嶼 Diàoyútái liè yǔ in Taiwan. They have an English name, the Pinnacle Islands, but most English maps label them with the Japanese name, the Senkaku Islands.
[x] Essentially, a move to theoretically emasculate Japan in Asia. The logic is that Japan is an island east of the Asian continent and not part of Asia. Admittedly, some conservative Japanese don’t consider Japan part of Asia (and those people tend to use “Asia” as a derogative term). But let’s be honest, Korean Konservatives just wants to re-define the water between Korea and Japan as the East Sea to emphasize East of Asia = East of Korea and China and 100% not Japan.
[xi] Sure, there are some racists in Asia. There are racists everywhere, unfortunately. Asia isn’t unique in this sense.
[xii] This argument could be made lol. But I think it’s too simple.

Yamanote Line: Harajuku, Yoyogi, & Shinjuku

In Japanese History on May 10, 2016 at 4:54 am

yamanote line new train

Welcome back to my ongoing series exploring Tōkyō’s Yamanote Line. We’re pretty much in one of the most important stretches of the loop. We’ve just been to Ebisu and Shibuya and we’re bound for Shinjuku.

“So, why are you cramming 3 train stations into 1 article?” you ask. That’s a good question. The reason is this: I have a pretty solid article from back in the day on Yoyogi and recently I’ve written about both Shinjuku and Harajuku. All three articles contain the historical and etymological info you’ll need if you want to dig deeper. Since this article is about viewing Tōkyō via the Yamanote Line, I’m going go light on the history and focus on my impressions of these areas.

Read About These Areas in Detail:

takeshita street.jpg

原宿
Harajuku

Harajuku is one of the most famous neighborhoods in Tōkyō. The name is a reference to an ancient relay station where messengers could change horses in what was once one of the most remote parts of Japan. But for the last 30 some odd years, Harajuku has been a sort of ground zero for Japanese fashion. Tōkyō fashion is a serpentine ghost that haunts a certain space for a while and then whisks itself away to a new shelter where it settles or reinvents itself. This means that Harajuku’s flame doesn’t burn as bright as it once did, but the area is still very much associated with shopping and fashion.

The station gives access to such iconic spots as:

  • Meiji Jingū (shrine dedicated to the Meiji Emperor[i])
  • Takeshita Dōri (an ally of stylish clothing boutiques)
  • Omotesandō Hills (a stylish shopping mall on ‘roids)
  • Yoyogi Park (one of Tōkyō big 3 “party parks[ii])

meiji jingu.jpg

Long time readers of JapanThis! know that I’m not the biggest fan of the imperial family or the Meiji Coup in general. That said, 明治神宮 Meiji Jingū (which means “Meiji Shrine”) is something you should check out at least once.

Yoyogi Park is a great park and hosts a variety of events around the year. It attracts a bohemian crowd and, well, it’s just a fun park. It’s super crowded on holidays and weekends, but so are Tōkyō’s other huge parks on major train lines.

Further reading:

yoyogi park.JPG

代々木
Yoyogi

Yoyogi is most famous for 代々木公園 Yoyogi Kōen Yoyogi Park which I mentioned earlier. The park is a pretty awesome place to chill out in the summer and fall, but because it always draws a rather bohemian crowd. It’s particularly fun in the spring for 花見 hamami cherry blossom viewing, but the pathways around the park are nice for people wanting to go for a stroll or even jog. When my friend and author Ashim Shanker got accepted to Harvard, we chose Yoyogi Park as the place to catch up over a can of beer and say goodbye before he returned to the US to make something of himself[iii]. We’d hung out in the park a few times back in the day when we were coworkers, so it only seemed natural. I guess what I’m saying is that great parks make great memories.

Anyhoo, the park itself is located on a plateau where some daimyō, notably the 井伊家 Ii-ke Ii clan had their 下屋敷 shimo-yashiki lower residence (ie; suburban palace). The name literally means “Generations of Trees” and most likely refers to a forest that existed here in the past. Interestingly, on the grounds of Meiji Jingū, there is a tree called the 代々木村ノ世々木 Yoyogi Mura no Yoyogi Yoyogi Village’s Generations Old Tree which marks the spot of Utagawa Hiroshige’s famous 浮世絵 ukiyo-e painting of a tree in the area. Few people know of this spot, but it’s there.

past_and_present_01.jpg

Dude, I Just Remembered…

All of this talk of Yoyogi Park, just reminded me! The best access point to Yoyogi Park is not by Yoyogi Station, it’s by Harajuku Station which is located at the official entrance of the park. So, if you want to visit Yoyogi Park, go to Harajuku Station. I repeat: If you want to go to Yoyogi Park, go to Harajuku Station, not Yoyogi Station.

Why? Well, because other than the park, I’m not sure what else to say about the Yoyogi Station area. It’s just a bunch of companies, restaurants, and convenience stores. You’ll also have to walk quite a distance to get to the park from here because your friends are probably waiting to meet you at Harajuku Station.

Related articles:

shinjuku kabukicho

Shinjuku™

新宿
Shinjuku

If I had a $1.00 Patreon donation for every time I mentioned Shinjuku, I think I could quit my day job. Unfortunately, that’s not the case so I scrape by and stay up late at night pondering how you can explore Tōkyō via the Yamanote Line lol.

Anyways, Shinjuku is a huge business district, a 都心 toshin city center, if you will. It was originally a post town for travelers going in and out of the city. Much like its modern incarnation, the old post town was a notorious destination for those hell-bent on drinking and whoring. It’s also the capital of 東京都 Tōkyō-to Tōkyō Metropolis.

That’s all I’m going to say about Shinjuku because if you want to know more, check out my most recent and fairly definitive article on the subject below. Peace out!

Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Shinjuku:

 

Please Support My Blog

Follow me on Twitter
Follow me on Facebook
Follow me on Flickr

If you’re gonna be in Japan, let’s take a history tour together!
JapanThis! – Tours for History Nerds

Most Importantly:
You can donate and become a patron to support every new article
⇨ Click Here to Donate via Patreon ⇦
(this is the preferred method)

Paypal fans can contact me here

Bitcoin enthusiasts can also donate:
Ƀ: 1HsKqFBVbyKTwMF3rzCprdw7aYv13fbi2A

 

 

 

______________
[i] And his wife, 昭憲皇太后 Shōken Kōtaigō, usually translated as consort, empress consort, empress or dowager. Without getting into the details of the title kōtaigō, which is peculiar to the imperial family, there are a few reasons why these other words are preferable to “wife.” She was married to the 天皇 tennō emperor, but she did not share any of his political power. If the emperor died, she could not finish out his reign until her death (as is the case in England). Just as the shōguns and daimyō had concubines to ensure hereditary succession of male bloodlines, the emperors did too. Shōken was actually barren and all 15 children of the Meiji Emperor were born by concubines. So, yeah, it’s easiest to just say she was his wife, but these other titles get thrown around to better describe her actual position in Japanese society and in the imperial court.
[ii] The other 2 being Inokashira Park and Ueno Park.
[iii] Meanwhile, I’m stuck here just writing this trainwreck of a blog lol.

What does Shinjuku mean?

In Japanese History on February 10, 2016 at 3:22 am

新宿
Shinjuku
(new post town)

koshu kaido naito-shinjuku

Shinjuku Dōri – this is where it all began.

Today’s article is long overdue. I originally wrote about Shinjuku in February 2013. The blog has matured a lot since then and I think there’s a lot more to say about the history of the area. The etymology is straightforward and was correct in the original article, but I just wanted to go into more detail. After all, Shinjuku isn’t just one of the busiest and most important places in Tōkyō; it’s arguably one of the busiest and most important places in the world. Also, just like Roppongi and Shibuya, Shinjuku has its fair share of both lovers and haters[i].

By the way, there are tons of footnotes[ii] in this article. As always, I suggest you use them. This is a pretty messy story.

My Previous Articles on Shinjuku:

shinjuku crazy

Shinjuku – skyscrapers, densely packed shopping and residential areas. Some are pristine, some are filthy (by Japanese standards, which is clean by many other standards lol).

First, Let’s Look at the Kanji

The kanji are fairly straightforward and longtime readers will probably want to skip to the next section, but for those of you aren’t so familiar with the kanji, here they are.


shin

new

宿
yado; shuku/juku

inn; suffix attached to a place name to indicate that it’s a post town

A note about pronunciation. In the 下町言葉 shitamachi kotoba low city dialect, the pronunciation Shinjiku and Shinshiku are sometimes heard. This usually isn’t done in daily conversation anymore, but is a feature of 落語 rakugo traditional story telling[iii]. I don’t know if it’s a true dialectal variant or an affectation. Also, in other parts of the country the kanji 新宿 can also be read as: Shinshuku, Niijuku, Arajuku, and Arayado. So stick that in your pipe and smoke it.

five highways.png

The so-called Gokaidō, or 5 Highways.

Famously, there were 5 highways leading to and from Edo[iv].  Of those five 街道 kaidō highways, one was the 甲州街道 Kōshu Kaidō which led from 日本橋 Nihonbashi in central Edo to 甲府藩 Kōfu Han Kōfu Domain[v] in modern 山梨県 Yamanashi-ken Yamanashi Prefecture, an important Tokugawa holding. Long time readers will know that before trains and cars, people walked everywhere. If you lived in Edo and wanted to go to any place in Japan, you just had to walk there. Depending on where you wanted to go, this could take weeks. Along the way, you had to sleep somewhere. As a result, a series of 宿場町 shukuba machi post towns were created to accommodate travelers[vi]. 宿 shuku, as you know means “inn” and 場 ba means “place” and 町 machi means “town.” These towns provided food, lodging, and ample opportunities for drinking and whoring.

At the beginning of the Edo Period, the original first rest town on the Kōshū Kaidō was in 高井戸宿 Takaido-shuku Takaido Post Town located in modern 杉並区Suginami-ku Suginami Ward. On a modern paved road, this walk could take you about 3 ½ hours. On an Edo Period road using Edo Period walking shoes, it would have taken a little longer. In addition to that, if you were a daimyō, you would be expected to proceed at a respectable pace and make a spectacle of your entourage which would make the same journey take even longer. Keep in mind that 3-4 hour calculation is assuming you actually started counting at Nihonbashi. If you came from some other area, there’s no telling how long it could take to get to Takaido-shuku.

Some Related Articles:

 

naito family crest upside down

The family crest of the Naitō family is a hanging wisteria. But in Shinjuku, the family crest is depicted upside down. It’s a mystery.

The Rise of Naitō-Shinjuku

In 1590, 徳川家康 Tokugawa Ieyasu granted the 内藤家 Naitō-ke Naitō clan[vii] a massive fief outside of Edo to monitor traffic on the Kōshū Kaidō and the 鎌倉街道 Kamakura Kaidō. Later, this fief would become the Naitō clan’s 下屋敷 shimo-yashiki suburban residence[viii]. The land given to the Naitō clan was eventually deemed excessive compared to the 石高 kokudaka rice value[ix] of 高遠藩 Takatō Han Takatō Domain. So a certain section of the land was confiscated by the shōgunate and repurposed as a post town. The town came to be called 内藤新宿 Naitō Shinjuku Naitō New Post Town.

the end

The End

Wait. What? Who the fuck are the Naitō?
And Takatō Domain? Dude, You Got Way Ahead of Yourself…

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sorry! I just wanted to give a quick overview. Bear with me (or bare with me, if you wanna), and I’ll explain everything. I promise.

The name Naitō will be attached to the place name Shinjuku for most of its existence, so let’s look into this family just a little bit.

Born in 1555 in 三河国岡崎 Mikawa no Kuni Okazaki Okazaki, Mikawa Province, a certain 内藤清成 Naitō Kiyonari was an important retainer of Tokugawa Ieyasu[x]. In 1560, as a result of the 桶狭間之戦い Okehazama no Tatakai Battle of Okehazama, Tokugawa Ieyasu regained control of his family’s ancestral stronghold at 岡崎城 Okazaki-jō Okazaki Castle. This alliance with 織田信長 Oda Nobunaga was the beginning of Ieyasu’s rise to power and influence. This worked out nicely for all the Mikawa samurai. In 1580, Naitō Kiyonari was made the mentor of Ieyasu’s 3rd son (and future 2nd shōgun), 徳川秀忠 Tokugawa Hidetada. At the time, he was 25 and Hidetada was just 2.

In 1590, Ieyasu gave up control of the ancestral Tokugawa lands in Mikawa Province and assumed control of the 関東八州 Kantō Hasshū 8 Kantō Provinces. This relocation meant a massive elite transfer. That is, all of Ieyasu’s Mikawa samurai moved to Edo. In the same year, he requested that Naitō Kiyonari also come to Edo to continue attending Hidetada in 江戸城 Edo-jō Edo Castle. He granted him a large swath of land that provided tactical support to the villages surrounding the intersection of the Kōshū Kaidō and Kamakura Kaidō. The new fief spanned from 四谷 Yotsuya to 代々木 Yoyogi[xi]. At the time, this area was country. It was essentially the undeveloped areas west of the outer moat of Edo Castle. Since it existed outside of the original castle town and was developed by daimyō and 旗本 hatamoto direct retainers of the Tokugawa, it can be considered 山手 yamanote[xii] the high city.

Oh, and speaking of hatamoto and daimyō and all that. When Naitō Kiyonari came to Edo with Ieyasu, he came as a hatamoto. The clan’s luck changed for the better in 1691. At that time, the 5th shōgun, 徳川綱吉 Tokugawa Tsunayoshi elevated the Naitō clan’s rank. In 1698, the shōgunate made 内藤清枚 Naitō Kiyokazu daimyō of Takatō Domain in present day 長野県 Nagano-ken Nagano Prefecture.

mail.png

You’ve got mail… from the shōgun.

Bureaucracy. It’s a Bitch.

By this time, Edo had been the Tokugawa capital for about 100 years. Although Ieyasu had granted Kiyokazu’s ancestor, Kiyonari, a vast swath of land, the rules about daimyō and rank had become stricter. Edo was expanding out into the country as well. This wasn’t the Sengoku Period anymore.

I mentioned it earlier, but with their newly earned daimyō status, the Naitō clan were under closer scrutiny by the 老中 rōjū shōgun’s chief advisors. The value of their new fief in Takatō wasn’t high enough to warrant such a large landholding in Kantō. It was bigger than or as big as most of the holdings of the richest daimyō – families that had been daimyō for a much longer time and who commanded huge domains. The shōgunate confiscated a section of the Naitō estate to make things seem fair. The area they were most interested in was the land where the Kōshū Kaidō and the 青梅街道 Ōmekaidō Ōme Highway intersected. This seemed like a good place to establish a shukuba machi (post town). The local villages had already been servicing the Naitō clan’s residence for almost 100 years. A local economy was present on both highways. Making an official post town in the area could take some of the onus off of Takaido and 伝馬町 Denma-chō[xiii] and build up a stronger suburban economy.

Even though the Naitō clan took a hit in terms of landholdings, the newly created shukuba, Naitō-Shinjuku, was destined to be a success – a wet, sticky, hot mess of a success.

Some related reading:

shukuba

Stereotypical image of a post town.

So, What was Naitō-Shinjuku?

Well, before the name Naitō Shinjuku got thrown around, the small town that popped up to service the palatial estate of the Naitō was called Naitō Machi literally “Naitō Town.”[xiv] This was the commoner district outside of the Naitō compound. So, a strong case could be made that the original name of Shinjuku was actually Naitō Machi. The addition of the word Shinjuku definitely came later.

harbinger of things to come

The green areas are the post town. The yellow areas are shrines, temples, and roads. The weird blue line is the Tama Jōsui (Tama Aqueduct). You’ll probably want to come back to this map later.

As I mentioned before, the original fief given to Kiyonari was later reduced when the family was given daimyō status and the area became a shimo-yashiki. But make no mistake about it; the plot of land held by the Naitō was still expansive. Modern 新宿御苑 Shinjuku Gyoen Shinjuku Imperial Park is more or less the former Naitō estate.

tamagawa-en.JPG

This section of the Naitō residence was said to be open to the public.

The Naitō knew what a fantastic rural palace they had. They built several spacious gardens with manmade hills, ponds, and all manner of flowers and trees. The family was apparently very generous to the local people and opened up the玉川園 Tamagawa-en Tamagawa Garden to the general public each season[xv]. Tamagawa-en is easily counted among some of the most famous attractions of the Edo[xvi]. Even to this day, some of the cherry blossoms trees in Shinjuku Gyoen are said to be about 400 years old[xvii].

Related reading:

hiroshige ever the jokester

Utagawa Hiroshige – ever the jokester. What do you think this painting is about?

But it wasn’t all ice cream, daimyō gardens, and puppy dogs. Day to day life in the area was pretty mundane most of the time. From the Edo Period until the American Occupation, Shinjuku was notorious for drinking and whoring – and by that, I mean the unlicensed sort[xviii]. Since local unlicensed sex industries were a taboo topic, the Naitō Machi area was perhaps best known a relay station. This meant the shōgunate kept horse stables here for messengers who had to relay important messages quickly. The presence of a lot of horses meant this area was famously covered in 馬糞 bafun horse manure – or less politely maguzo horse shit. It’s said that on hot days, pedestrians and horses kicked up dust clouds of dirt and dry shit and the air was yellow and foul.

The neighborhood of 新宿区四谷4丁目 Shinjuku-ku Yotsuya yon-chōme 4th block of Yotsuya, Shinjuku Ward was called 四谷大木戸 Yotsuya Ōkido. This is because from 1616 to 1792 a special 関所 sekisho check point stood here. An ōkido – literally “large wooden door” – was the name given to the border stations that protected the routes in and out of the shōgun’s capital. Edo had 3 main ōkido:

name

highway

板橋大木戸
Itabashi Ōkido

中山道
Nakasendō

高輪大木戸
Takanawa Ōkido

東海道
Tōkaidō

四谷大木戸
Yotsuya Ōkido

甲州街道
Kōshū Kaidō

Travelers coming in and out of Edo would show their paperwork, and if approved they’d be admitted into the city. But apparently by the 1790’s, the shōgunate didn’t see the need for such precautions anymore.

okido

The entrance to Naitō Shinjuku was the Yotsuya Ōkido. The entrance was never this fortified, though. This looks like the center of a castle town, but this drawing was done in the the Late Edo Period when ōkido basically didn’t exist anymore.

Let’s Take a Stroll through Naitō-Shinjuku

Travelers coming in would pass the ōkido and continue on the Kōshū Kaidō through the post town. The area covered present day 新宿一丁目 Shinjuku Icchōme 1st block of Shinjuku, 二丁目 Ni-chōme 2nd block, and 三丁目 San-chōme 3rd block. Today, that stretch of road is called 新宿通り Shinjuku Dōri Shinjuku Street. The street was lined with all kinds of shops and inns and would have been like any other shukuba machi. The town ended when you arrived at a fork in the road in an area called 淀橋 Yodobashi[xix]. This fork was the beginning of the Ōmekaidō[xx].

naito shinjuku diorama.jpg

Everybody loves dioramas!

The post town gained quite a reputation in its first 20 years. There were 52 inns in addition to other businesses. Supposedly, nearly every business in Naitō-Shinjuku offered prostitutes as an additional service. It was so bad that the 奉行所 bugyōsho magistrate’s office was regularly hounded by the proprietors of shops in 吉原 Yoshiwara[xxi] who complained that they couldn’t compete with pricing and availability[xxii]. They insisted that the shōgunate either ban prostitution in Naitō-Shinjuku or at the very least regulate the shit out of it. After a fire devastated the area, the shōgunate mulled the costs of rebuilding. Compounded by complaints from rich proprietors in Yoshiwara, the post town was shut down in 1718.

More reading:

Shinjuku Dori.JPG

You may want to refer to the map I posted earlier. This is the modern route from the Yotsuya Ōkido to the split from the Kōshū Kaidō to the Ōmekaidō.

The Shut Down of Naitō-Shinjuku

However, the party didn’t stop – it just slowed down… but it slowed down a lot.

In the same year, the 8th shōgun, 徳川吉宗 Tokugawa Yoshimune, enacted a series of sumptuary laws called the 享保の改革の最 Kyōhō no Kaikaku Kyōhō Reforms. One of his reforms was aimed at restricting unlicensed prostitution and stated that 旅籠屋一軒につき飯盛女は2人まで hatago-ya ikken ni tsuki meshimori onna futari made inns for travelers may have no more than 2 meshimori onna per shop. Meshimori onna is the Japanese word for girls who served meals and provided sexual favors in post towns. That meant a town like Naitō-Shinjuku could now be regulated so the town was back in business almost as quickly as it had been shut down.

Edo Period Street Walkers.jpg

We’re not a post town anymore. Now we’re just a 岡場所 (okabasho), a local red light district.

The problem was that without its post town status people were passing through and staying at the original first official post town, Takaito. The village headman of Naitō Machi appealed to the shōgunate saying that most of the townspeople had lost their livelihoods. He also argued that other post towns, Takaito in particular, couldn’t handle all the traffic and re-opening Naitō-Shinjuku as a post town would ease the burden. Various appeals were made between 1723 and 1737 – more than 30 years. But every time the shōgunate rejected the petitions. They were effectively drawn off the maps. Naitō-Shinjuku was only known to the local commoner population and the Takatō samurai population who needed to indulge in a nice cup of tea, a bath, and some sex with a local Kantō girl. But this wasn’t enough. The town was suffering.

Finally, in 1772, about 50 years after the post town was closed by the shōgunate, they granted shukuba status to the area again[xxiii].

naito shinjuku in 1919

Naitō Shinjuku in 1919

The Icing on the Cake

Recently, the shōgunate had more or less given up on regulating the number of meshimori onna at inns. They began looking the other way when other shops began employing them too. They even went so far as to make special exceptions for certain villages, certain post towns, and even certain individual businesses. In short, Naitō-Shinjuku was back in full swing.

mesimorionna.jpg

Woo-hoo! Let’s get this party started. More sexxxy food time for everyone. Awwwwwwww yeah.

Shinjuku Swells Up & Gets Bigger and Bigger

Even after the obsolescence of post towns – these were often replaced by train stations – the area’s reputation as a red light district never diminished. To this day, Shinjuku’s lively 歌舞伎町 Kabukichō district is synonymous with the sex industry.

Again, given the sheer number of people, department stores, apartments, and skyscrapers that define Shinjuku today, it’s hard to believe it was never anything but a massive city center. But the area was still pretty underdeveloped until after the 1923 関東大震災 Kantō Daishinsai Great Kantō Earfquake. The real development began after a series of fires in 1925. The site was chosen as a 副都心 Fuku-toshin. Toshin means “city center.” Fuku-toshin literally means “vice city center,” but maybe “urban subcenter” is a better translation? I dunno. “Vice city center” sounds kinda bad ass. Anyways, that was when Shinjuku really began to get its proverbial girth.

Naito Machi.JPG

Modern Naito Machi includes both the former post town and former daimyō residence.

So What Happened to the Name Naitō-Shinjuku?

The creation of Shinjuku Ward is very complicated and boring but here’s the short version. In the 1920’s, Naitō-Shinjuku was combined with some other towns to form 淀橋区 Yodobashi-ku Yodobashi Ward. In 1947, when Shinjuku Ward was created Naitō Machi still existed – indeed, that postal address still exists today. And while Naitō-Shinjuku was the first Shinjuku, it wasn’t the only Shinjuku. There were 西新宿 Nishi-Shinjuku West Shinjuku and 東新宿 Higashi Shinjuku East Shinjuku and… well, you get the picture. Thus when reshuffling administrative units of Tōkyō in 1947, it just made sense to call the whole area “Shinjuku.” This was the common name for the district anyways; Naitō-Shinjuku was just one part of that area.

And while we haven’t lost Naitō Machi as a postal address, we have actually lost Naito-Shinjuku. But the debauchery of Naitō-Shinjuku lives on in Kabukichō and other parts of Shinjuku Ward. I can’t help but feel that the culture of Shinjuku is deeply rooted in its licentious post town days. Don’t forget things were so out of control the fucking Yoshiwara tried to shut them down!

So the next time you visit a prostitute in the area, just remember that you’re actually connecting with a profound, grand, unbroken historical erotic tradition passed down directly from the culture of the Edo Period.

Oh yeah, and the park’s not too bad.

Please Support My Blog
It Don’t Write Itself™
⇨ Click Here to Donate via Patreon ⇦
BTC: 1HsKqFBVbyKTwMF3rzCprdw7aYv13fbi2A
(I’ve begun making exclusive videos for patrons)

___________
[i] I count myself among both groups. Yes, I’m a lover and a hater.
[ii] Footnote test. lol.
[iii] Here’s the Wikipedia article on rakugo.
[iv] There were more than 5, by the way. But the traditional “big 5” started at Nihonbashi. Here’s my article on them.
[v] For the record, in the Edo Period, 甲府藩 Kōfu Han Kōfu Domain was a Tokugawa shōgunate controlled fief located in 甲斐国 Kai no Kuni Kai Province. Fans of the Sengoku Period will recognize Kai Province and Kōfu (which both share the kanji 甲 kai/) as the territory of the Sengoku warlord 武田信玄 Takeda Shingen.
[vi] This system wasn’t a product of the Tokugawa Shōgunate. It popped up naturally as villagers took advantage of inter-provincial/inter-domain traffic. The Tokugawa shōgunate definitely insisted on regulating it.
[vii] Later the clan would be promoted to daimyō rank. They controlled 高遠藩 Takatō Han Takatō Domain in modern 長野県伊那 Nagano-ken Ina-shi Ina City, Nagano Prefecture
[viii] More about that later. At this time, the Naitō family were just retainers of Ieyasu. Ieyasu was just a daimyō, one of the 5 most powerful daimyō in Japan, but he still had a 10 year uphill struggle to become shōgun.
[ix] Here’s a good explanation of kokudaka from Samurai Archives.
[x] Who went by the name 松平元康 Matsudaira Motoyasu in those days.
[xi] According to legend, Ieyasu told Naitō Kiyonari that he would give him a fief based on how far his horse could ride. This ended up being Yotsuya in the east, Yoyogi in the west, Sendagaya in the south, and Ōkubo in the north. Take the story with a grain of salt.
[xii] I know this has been beaten to death here, but if you don’t know what yamanote and shitamachi mean, please read this article.
[xiii] Denma-chō was home to one of Edo’s 3 Great Execution Grounds.
[xiv] This is what happens when commoners suck up to nobles.
[xv] As a 武家 buke military family, of course they didn’t allow full access to the entire residence and all the gardens, but still, that’s pretty cool.
[xvi] This area is now present day 玉藻池 Tamamo Ike Tamamo Lake in Shinjuku Gyoen
[xvii] I don’t know how you confirm this without cutting the tree down, but what the hell do I know?
[xviii] This means, no government regulation free-range prostitution. You’ll see what I mean soon enough.
[xix] If the name Yodobashi sounds familiar to you (ie; like a huge electronics retailer), you’re not going crazy. The shop’s name derives from this location. I have an article about that somewhere.
[xx] Today, parts of this road still exist, including the famous “rape tunnel.” It’s preserved as the 旧青梅街道 Kyū-Ōmekaidō Old Ōmekaidō. The current road that bears the name Ōmekaidō has been moved a little. If you look at the walls in the tunnel, they have the whole length of the Ōmekaidō mapped out and each post town is labeled!
[xxi] Yoshiwara was the main licensed prostitution district of Edo.
[xxii] Yoshiwara was extremely expensive. The whole process was highly ritualized in the classier establishments. You’d go one night to have tea with a proprietor and if you were lucky, you’d be introduced to a girl for some more tea. Then you’d have to come back and court her more until she finally said, “yes.” Of course, there were lower class places that sped up the process. But in a Naitō-Shinjuku it was like “do you want a girl after your tea?” or “thanks for ordering a plate of soba, would you like a blow job after that?”
[xxiii] By 1808 the town had made a full economic recovery as it’s recorded that they had 50 inns and 80 tea houses.

Ōedo Line: Tochōmae & Nishi-Shinjuku Go-chōme

In Japanese History on July 9, 2015 at 6:39 am

都庁前
Tochōmae (in front of the Tōkyō Metropolitan Government Building)

14959690740_a9271e59de_z

The etymology of the place name is straight forward. 都 to means “metropolis” – a kind of “super prefecture.” 庁 chō means office. 前 mae means front. This is the name of the Tōkyō Metropolitan Government Building.

tocho

The TMG Building is quite impressive. It’s a massive 48 floor skyscraper that splits into 2 towers at the 33rd floor. On the 45th floor of each tower there are observation decks which are free to the general public. From here, you can see Tōkyō Tower, Tōkyō Skytree, and Mt. Fuji. 新宿中央公園 Shinjuku Chūō Kōen Shinjuku Central Park is nearby. It’s a nice park, but not an historical park as far as I know. It’s a popular destination for office workers and government employees on their lunch breaks. The park is also known for its cherry blossoms in the spring. I’ve never gone to there for 花見 hanami cherry blossom viewing, but I imagine it’s not very crowded since this is a business and administrative area, not residential. So if you want a secret hanami spot, Shinjuku Central Park is as good a place as any.

tocho hay

西新宿五丁目
Nishi-Shinjuku Go-chōme (West Shinjuku, 5th Block)

OK, sorry. There’s nothing here, really. 新宿熊野神社 Shinjuku Kumano Jinja Shinjuku Kumano Shrine is located a short distance from the station. The shrine isn’t very famous, but it’s located on the grounds of Shinjuku Central Park, so if you visit the park, you can see it anyways. As far as shrines go, it’s pretty typical.

kumano

As I said in the last post and in the beginning posts, the Ōedo Line is kind of a loop. Once it loops around, it spends a lot of time in Shinjuku.

Here are my other posts about Shinjuku:

Please Support My Blog
It Don’t Write Itself™
Click Here to Donate via Patreon
(I’ve begun making exclusive videos for patrons)

This is part of an ongoing series that begins here

Ōedo Line: Yoyogi & Shinjuku

In Japanese History on July 8, 2015 at 4:49 am

代々木
Yoyogi (never ending trees)

SONY DSC

SONY DSC

Yoyogi Park is one of Tōkyō’s greatest parks. It’s pretty much beautiful all year long, but it’s really famous for cherry blossoms in the spring. It attracts a younger and less conventional crowd, including foreigners. For history nerds there is very little to see here unless you search the grounds of 明治神宮 Meiji Jingū the Meiji Shrine for the remnants of the Ii clan’s estate (of which virtually nothing is left).

In my original article, I went into detail about the etymology of this location. But even if you don’t care about Japanese history, Yoyogi Park is a lot of fun. It is without a doubt, one of the most exciting public spaces in Tōkyō. In terms of liveliness, it ranks in my top 3 “party parks” with Ueno Park and Inokashira Park. But all three parks are distinct. There’s no true comparison.

This station gives you access to:

Yoyogi Park is a famous 青姦 aokan (outdoor sex) spot. If you can get away with it, do it!

Yoyogi Park is a famous 青姦 aokan (outdoor sex) spot. If you can get away with it, do it!

新宿
Shinjuku (new post town)

shinjuku

If you’ve been following this series from the beginning, you’ve probably noticed that we’ve come full circle. The Ōedo Line begins at Shinjuku Nishiguchi, the east side of Shinjuku Station. From this point on, we’re going to venture outside of shōgun’s capital. In the Edo Period, this area was on the outskirts of the city. It was suburban along the 青梅街道 Ōme Kaidō Ōme Highway and 甲州街道 Kōshū Kaidō Kōshū Highway and more or less country if you veered off the main roads.

The old Ōme Kaidō passes under the elevated train tracks near Shinjuku Station.  The tunnel is referred to by foreigners as the

The old Ōme Kaidō passes under the elevated train tracks near Shinjuku Station.
The tunnel is referred to by foreigners as the “rape tunnel” because it was so shady at night, but now it’s well lit and actually features art exhibits 24 hours.
To the best of my knowledge, no one has been raped in there. It’s just a really off color joke by foreigners that I heard. I’ve walked through there at night and it’s always crowded and lively. You’re more likely to smell a homeless person sleeping than encounter any kind of violence there. Nevertheless, the horrible nickname persists.

Shinjuku Station gives you access to almost the whole world. It’s one of the busiest train stations in the world. The name literally means “New Post Town” and refers to its old name as 内藤新宿 Naitō-Shinjuku. Naitō was the daimyō family that had an estate here on the Kōshū Highway which led to modern day Shizuoka and Yamanashi Prefectures. Once their estate was built, a post town for travelers popped up. In the post war era, the name Naitō was dropped and the area has officially been known as Shinjuku ever since.

Want to read more?

Please Support My Blog
It Don’t Write Itself™
Click Here to Donate via Patreon
(I’ve begun making exclusive videos for patrons)

This is part of an ongoing series that begins here

___________________________________
[i] Before the end of 2015, I will have a comprehensive article about Shinjuku. I promise.

Ōedo Line: Ushigome-Yanagichō & Ushigome-Kagurazaka

In Japanese History on June 4, 2015 at 2:15 am

牛込柳町
Ushigome-Yanagichō (crowded with cows – willow tree town)

The alleged site of the Shieikan, Kondō Isami's fencing school and incubator for the most elite members.

The alleged site of the Shieikan, Kondō Isami’s fencing school and incubator for the most elite members.

I covered this place in 2013. In short, it’s the merging of 2 former place names in order to make a unique station name. That is to say, the area isn’t called Ushigome-Yanagichō, just the station is. The actual address is 新宿区原町 Shinjuku-ku Haramachi Haramachi, Shinjuku Ward. It’s a residential area with a few 下町 shitamachi low city features. The station gives you access to the alleged location of the 道場 dōjō martial arts school of 近藤勇 Kondō Isami, where much of the core leadership of the 新撰組 Shinsengumi trained[i].

I’ve never been to this station, so I can’t say much about what the area is like, but I’m assuming it’s primarily residential.

★ Wanna read my original article about Ushigome-Yanagichō?
★ Wanna read my original article about Ichigaya?

In the 60's and 70's, this valley was one of the most polluted areas in Tokyo.  See the original article for more details.

In the 60’s and 70’s, this valley was one of the most polluted areas in Tokyo.
See the original article for more details.

牛込神楽坂
Ushigome-Kagurazaka (crowded with cows – Shintō music hill)

Ushigome Bridge as seen from the base of Kaguarazaka.

Ushigome Bridge as seen from the base of Kaguarazaka.

I wrote about both Ushigome and Kagurazaka a few years ago. To a modern person visiting Tōkyō, this area seems really far from Edo Castle[ii]. But the fact is that the outer moat system extended to Ushigome and Kagurazaka. A modern bridge stands where 牛込橋 Ushigomebashi Ushigome Bridge crossed the outer moat[iii] and you still see the stone walls that were the base of a great gate to Edo Castle. The moat is still there too, but now a train runs along the castle side. Once you cross the bridge, you can begin your ascent up the Kagura Hill. In the Edo Period, this area mainly consisted of samurai residences.

The station is located at a major thoroughfare with a lot of car and pedestrian traffic. But off the main road, it’s actually a quiet residential area that is peppered with specialized Japanese restaurants and 料亭 ryōtei high end, formal Japanese restaurants. It preserves a feeling of Edo’s yamanote mystique and some ryōtei even feature 芸者 geisha – a bit of a rarity in Tōkyō. I highly recommend just taking the train to this area for the sole purpose of getting lost in hopes of finding a cool, tiny restaurant. Trust me. You’ll love it.

★ Wanna read my original article about Ushigome?
★ Wanna read my original article about Kagurazaka?

Tomochiyo, a young geisha who debuted in Kagurazaka in 2010. She's dressed casually in this informal shot, but I like the photo because it looks like she isn't wearing a wig, but is using her natural hair. I think she's pretty cute. How about you?

Tomochiyo, a young geisha who debuted in Kagurazaka in 2010. She’s dressed casually in this informal shot, but I like the photo because it looks like she isn’t wearing a wig, but is using her natural hair. I think she’s pretty cute. How about you?

Please Support My Blog
It Don’t Write Itself™
 Click Here to Donate 
(I’ve begun making exclusive videos for patrons)
⇨ Bitcoin: 18xSJyYwRRP8bJccHiG7KxWgPKZdd5HKk2 

.

This article is part of an ongoing series that starts here.

________________________
[i] Who were the Shinsengumi?
[ii] Present day 皇居 Kokyō Imperial Palace, but we don’t use that word here at JapanThis.
No, we never ever use that word. It’s Edo Castle. Don’t you forget that.
[iii] Today the moat is a pathway for a train.

Ōedo Line: Higashi-Shinjuku & Wakamatsu-Kawada

In Japanese History on June 3, 2015 at 2:37 am

東新宿
Higashi Shinjuku (East Shinjuku)

station higashi shinjuku

This is just the station name. The area is actually called 新宿五丁目 Shinjuku Go-chōme 5th Block of Shinjuku. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten off at this station, but I imagine it’s just offices, restaurants, and apartments – nothing too exciting.

higashi shinjuku neighborhood

若松河田
Wakamatsu-Kawada

Wakamatsu

Wakamatsu

The station name is a combination of 2 town names: 若松町 Wakamatsu-chō Wakamatsu Town and 河田町 Kawada-chō Kawada Town. Wakamatsu-chō is said to derive from the 若松 wakamatsu young pine trees that were cut from this area and presented yearly to the shōgun family to decorate Edo Castle at 御正月 O-shōgatsu the New Year Holiday. Kawada-chō is said to derive from a swampy rice paddy in the area. The first kanji 河 kawa means river or stream. The second kanji 田 ta/da means rice paddy. Rice paddies need irrigation, ergo “Kawada.”

I’ve never visited the area, but from my understanding, it’s just a residential neighborhood with high rise apartments. Maybe there’s a convenience store or shrine in the area, but probably not much else.

Wakamatsu Kawada's claim to fame is apparently this big supermarket. Neat.

Wakamatsu Kawada’s claim to fame is apparently this big supermarket. Neat.

Please Support My Blog
It Don’t Write Itself™
 Click Here to Donate 
(I’ve begun making exclusive videos for patrons)
⇨ Bitcoin: 18xSJyYwRRP8bJccHiG7KxWgPKZdd5HKk2 

.

This article is part of an ongoing series that starts here.

What does Shinanomachi mean?

In Japanese History on May 12, 2015 at 5:42 pm

信濃町
Shinanomachi (Shinano Town)

station

Today’s place name is really easy, so I thought I’d take a little time to review some ideas that pop up from time to time. Hopefully this is a good refresher for long time readers and a way to bring new readers up to speed.

I’m constantly referring to a variety of administrative units and geographical areas, most commonly: 国 kuni provinces, 藩 han domains, 郡 gun districts, 村 mura villages, and 町 machi towns. The meanings of these terms changed over time. Since JapanThis! tends to focus on 江戸東京 Edo-Tōkyō, the last term 町 machi generally referred to tightly controlled towns made up of commoners or low ranking samurai that centered around a specific trade or activity. 郡 gun districts and 村 mura villages were more loosely defined and referred to larger areas with a less cohesive concentration of residences – districts being much, much larger than villages, naturally[i]. The first two terms, 国 kuni and 藩 han are a bit more specialized.


kuni, koku
province


han
domain

令制国 ryōsei koku administrative provinces (also called 律令国 ritsuryō koku) were established sometime between 645 and 701. This is the birth of the “province.”

During the Muromachi Period, the large provincial territories came to be superseded by the protectorates of 守護大名 shugo daimyō (for lack of a better translation, “military governors/protectors of specific fiefs”).

By the time of 豊臣秀吉 Toyotomi Hideyoshi, the ancient provinces were merely archaic boundaries on the map. Actual political authority was held by daimyō over their lands, ancestral or recently acquired. This situation continued through the Edo Period – the real power being controlled by local daimyō whose fiefs were now called 藩 han domains.

After the rise of the han system, the provinces existed as geographical borders – but not political borders – until 1871 when the imperial edict 廃藩置県 haihan-chiken was promulgated. The name means “abolition of domains, establishment of prefectures.” [ii]

Today provincial names are used as nostalgic nicknames.

国司
kokushi, kuni no tsukasa
provincial governors

Governor is a somewhat weak translation, but it’s good enough for our purposes. But in short, with the establishment of provinces, kokushi were the officials granted control the provinces. The position weakened in the Kamakura and Marumachi Periods.

Kokushi titles came in 4 flavors. They consisted of a province name plus a rank. From highest to lowest, those ranks were 守 kami protector, 介 suke caretaker, 掾 jō officer, 目 sakan overseer[iii]. (The translations of those kanji are my own and just meant to give my non-kanji reading readers a general idea.)

As the geopolitical importance of provinces faded away, kokushi titles became mere courtly titles. In the Edo Period, these archaic titles were prestigious in the courts of the shōgun and emperor, but the people bearing the titles wielded no power over the territory. It was strictly a formality.

So why did I bother going through all of that? Well, as I said before, it never hurts to review a few important concepts. Also, there are new readers joining all the time and I want to make sure they’re all onboard. And lastly, the concept of 国司 kokushi is important to this place name.

信濃国 Shinano no Kuni[iv] Shinano Province was located inside present day 長野県 Nagano-ken Nagano Prefecture. The name of 信濃町 Shinanomachi is derived from this place name and is connected with the kokushi title 信濃守 Shinano no Kami Protector of Shinano.

Shinanomachi is located in Shinjuku Ward.

Shinanomachi is located in Shinjuku Ward.
“Why have I never heard of this place?” you’re probably asking yourself.
Simple, no one fucking lives there. As of 2010, the area claimed to house a mere 979 residents!!

.

So, Whose Title Was This?

永井尚政 Nagai Naomasa was a daimyō who was active at the dawn of the Edo Period. He was born in 1587; the same year 豊臣秀吉 Toyotomi Hideyoshi began expelling Christians from Japan. His father, 永井直勝 Nagai Naokatsu, was a retainer of 徳川家康 Tokugawa Ieyasu. As such Naomasa was along for the ride at many of the major events that catapulted Ieyasu to the position of shōgun – ie; the military campaigns that defined both the beginning of the shōgunate and the end of the Sengoku Period.

In 1600, at the ripe old age of 13, Naomasa is believed to have accompanied his father Naokatsu to the 関ケ原の戦い Sekigahara no Tatakai Battle of Sekigahara. In 1602, he became an attendant of 徳川秀忠 Tokugawa Hidetada, who would soon become the 2nd shōgun. Needless to say, this was an extremely prestigious position for a boy of his age.

A famous screen depicting the Battle of Sekigahara. I actually recently saw the real thing at the Great Sekigahara Exhibit at the Edo-Tokyo Museum. It was pretty freaking impressive.

In 1605, the newly installed 2nd shōgun, Hidetada, granted him the honorary title 信濃守 Shinano no Kami. Having received this title directly from the shōgun, this new name became far more well-known than his real name. However, his new status within the shōgunate ranks came with responsibilities and so from winter 1614 to spring 1615, he fought alongside the retired shōgun Ieyasu and shōgun Hidetada at the 大坂の陣 Ōsaka no Jin Siege of Ōsaka. Years later, the 3rd shōgun, Tokugawa Iemitsu sent him to protect the imperial city of 京都 Kyōto during the 島原の乱 Shimabara no Ran Shimabara Rebellion from winter 1637 to spring 1638[v]. These last 2 campaigns are often said to have put out the last serious threats to Tokugawa hegemony.

In his career as a chief retainer of the first 4 Tokugawa shōguns[vi], Shinano no Kami’s life spanned the last gasps of the Sengoku Period and saw the birth of the so-called Pax Tokugawa[vii]. The shōgunate changed his domains 3 times, which meant his status as a daimyō was elevated 3 times.

An image of an audience with 3rd shogun Iemitsu. The shogun is seated in the dais at the top center of the picture. He is flanked by 2 attendants. The term attendant (koshō, in Japanese) is actually a somewhat erotically charged term. But to the best of my knowledge Hidetada didn't have an established sexual relationship with Naomasa. He probably just acted as an assistant and secretary.

An image of an audience with 3rd shogun Iemitsu. The shogun is seated in the dais at the top center of the picture. He is flanked by 2 attendants.
The term attendant (koshō, in Japanese) is actually a somewhat erotically charged term. But to the best of my knowledge Hidetada didn’t have an established sexual relationship with Naomasa. He probably just acted as an assistant and secretary.

.

OK, So This Guy Is Cool and All, But Why Is There a Place in Tokyo Called Shinanomachi?

According to the rules of 参勤交代 sankin-kōtai alternate attendance[viii], Nagai Naomasa (Shinano no Kami) was required to build 3 palaces in the shōgun’s capital at Edo. He built his下屋敷 shimo-yashiki lower residence[ix] in an area between modern Shinanomachi and 四ツ谷 Yotsuya. The title Shinano no Kami was hereditary and since all of the daimyō living in that palace were called Shinano no Kami (and indeed, this title is written on maps, not Nagai), it’s clear the local economy that popped up to service the Nagai daimyō and their retainers came to be called 信濃町 Shinano Machi “Shinano Town.”

Spoiler alert.  Nagai Naomasa becomes a monk.

Spoiler alert.
Nagai Naomasa becomes a monk.

Nagai Naomasa’s Final Days

In 1632, shōgun Hidetada died, and Naomasa was one of the daimyō in charge of overseeing the construction of the lavish funerary temple, 台徳院 Daitoku-in[x] at the Tokugawa 菩提寺 bodai-ji, family temple 増上寺 Zōjō-ji in 芝 Shiba[xi]. By the time of his retirement in 1658, his imperial court rank had been raised from 従五位下 ju go’i no ge Lower Junior 5th Rank to 従四位下 ju shi’i no ge Lower Junior 4th Rank[xii]. After retirement he became a Buddhist monk and changed his name to 信斎 Shinsai which means “holy truth” but preserves the first kanji from his courtly title. He eventually died in 1668 and then his body was interred at 興聖寺 Kōshō-ji Kōshō Temple in Kyōto.

Koshoji in Kyoto, final resting place of Nagai Naomasa - Shinano no Kami.  Not a bad place to go into that good night, right?

Koshoji in Kyoto, final resting place of Nagai Naomasa – Shinano no Kami.
Not a bad place to go into that good night, right?

In the popularized tales of samurai lore, Nagai Naomasa isn’t particularly well known. But I think you can appreciate that he was living in one of the most exciting times a Sengoku samurai could have lived in. He lived through the very tail end of the Sengoku Period – and definitely witnessed and participated in warfare. But he also lived to be an old man who saw the most stable regime anyone had seen in 100 years. It reminds me of the scene in Game of Thrones, where Bronn says “I’ve had an exciting life. I want my death to be boring.” Naomasa was of the first generation that made that dream a reality. He had grown up in a time full of violence but the dawn of the new age had afforded him the luxury of dying a peaceful death. Such a death was a luxury that would become a norm for the samurai of the Edo Period.

Please Support My Blog
It Don’t Write Itself™
 Click Here to Donate 
 Bitcoin: 18xSJyYwRRP8bJccHiG7KxWgPKZdd5HKk2 

_______________________
[i] 郡 gun is sometimes translated as “county.”
[ii] By the way, why does Japan have prefectures and not states?
[iii] Two famous examples from the Edo Period are 吉良義央 Kira Yoshihisa – usually portrayed as the villain in the 47 Rōnin story – whose titles was 上野介 Kōzuke no Suke Guardian of Kōzuke Province – and 勝海舟 Katsu Kaishū – whose title was 阿波守 Awa no Kami Protector of Awa Province.
[iv] The short name for the province was 信州 Shinshū. By the way, the kanji for Shinano – like most provincial names – is most likely ateji. That is to say, there is no meaning.
[v] We talked about the Shimabara Rebellion the other day in my article on Fuda no Tsuji.
[vi] Ieyasu, Hidetada, Iemitsu, Ietsuna.
[vii] A pseudo-Latin term that means “Tokugawa Peace” based on the real Latin term Pax Romana “Roman Peace” – referring to the establishment of the Roman Empire under Augustus Caesar.
[viii] You should probably know the basics of alternate attendance.
[ix] A daimyō’s lower residence was often the largest estate. It was generally suburban and served as a refuge in case of disaster or if said daimyō just needed to get away from it all.
[x] Sometimes Romanized as Taitoku-in. Here’s my article about it.
[xi] Hidetada’s mortuary temple was one of the grandest examples of Edo Period funerary architecture, next to the mausolea in Nikkō, was probably one of the most unique graves of a Tokugawa Shōgun – without a doubt, it was the greatest example in Edo itself.
[xii] Don’t even ask me to explain the court rank system. I can’t! lol

The Kanda River

In Japanese History, Tokyo Rivers, Travel in Japan on July 15, 2014 at 5:30 pm

神田川
Kanda-gawa (literally, “divine fields river,” but actually “river in Kanda”)[i]

Hajiribashi, a concrete arched bridge crossing the Kanda River near Ochanomizu Station.  If you eliminate the train station and modern buildings, this a typical Edo Period river setting.  The bridge itself is not much to look at now, but it was built after the Great Kanto Earthquake which river travel was still common. Such bridges were designed to be viewed from below by boats passing underneath them.

Hajiribashi, a concrete arched bridge crossing the Kanda River near Ochanomizu Station.
If you eliminate the train station and modern buildings, this a typical Edo Period river setting.

 

The name 神田 Kanda is one of the oldest place names in Edo-Tōkyō and believe it or not, 神田川 Kanda-gawa the Kanda River is not that old at all. Well, most of the river isn’t. Well, part of it might be.

Well, it’s complicated.

In short, after doing this research, I’ve realized I have to make a separate article about the area called 神田 Kanda – and by that, I mean just etymology. So I will write about that in the future – and I promise not to put it off too long. But let’s just deal with the river for the time being, mkay?

 

Let’s Look at the Kanji


kan

deities


ta, -da

rice paddies


kawa, -gawa

river

 

This river is manmade. So the etymology seems to be clear. At the beginning of the Edo Period, in the 神保町 Jinbō-chō area there was a small waterway that cut through a hilly are called 神田山 Kandayama Mt. Kanda. It’s said that since this area in general was called 神田 Kanda[ii] the original waterway was then called 神田川 Kanda-gawa the Kanda River.

If you only wanted to know the etymology of the river, you can stop reading here. From this point on it’s going to turn into a crazy – possibly boring – river mess. If you’re a JapanThis! masochist, then by all means, read on. You may actually enjoy this.

 

 

hajiribashi

A view of Hajiribashi when it was new. The bridge itself is not much to look at now, but in the 1920’s it was new and river travel was still common. Such bridges were designed to be viewed from below by boats passing underneath them (or without tall buildings in the background).

 

Where to Start??

Up until now, every river we have looked at was at some point a naturally occurring river. The Kanda River is quite different from those rivers. There was a time within recorded history that the Kanda River never existed. Though, a portion of it was once a natural tributary of a long vanished inlet of Edo Bay, it is, in fact, a man-made river. All though it may not be on the lips of every Tōkyōite, today the river is a well-recognized part of the well-manicured urban landscape of the modern city.

I actually first mentioned the Kanda River back in June, 2011 in an article about Yodobashi[iii], a small bridge that crosses the Kanda River at the border of 中野区 Nakano-ku Nakano Ward and 新宿区 Shinjuku-ku Shinjuku Ward. So this is something of a little homecoming for me. I started this blog when I still lived in Nakano (lived there for about 6 years).

 

yodobashi

Yodobashi in the Taisho Era, before the Great Kanto Earfquake. The area is rustic and a in sharp contrast to the present area. Today it marks the border of Nakano and crazy-ass Shinjuku.

 

What is the Kanda River Today?

The modern river’s official designation is the channel of water that flows from 井之頭池 Inokashira Ike Inokashira Pond to 飯田橋 Iidabashi (literally, Iida Bridge) where it empties into the 外堀 sotobori outer moat of Edo Castle. But it’s at this junction where the river flows into a disparate network of waterways. So you could say, unofficially, that the Kanda River flows into the 日本橋川 Nihonbashi-gawa Nihonbashi River and the 隅田川 Sumida-gawa Sumida River at 両国橋 Ryōgokubashi Ryōgoku Bridge, essentially taking the water to the Tōkyō Bay.

 

Wellspring of the present-day Kanda River at Inokashira Park.

Wellspring of the present-day Kanda River at Inokashira Park.

 

Now Let’s Talk History

As mentioned in my article on the etymology of Edo, the original 江戸城 Edo-jō Edo Castle or 千代田城 Chiyoda-jō Chiyoda Castle was not built by 太田道灌 Ōta Dōkan as is often cited[iv]. In reality, a minor branch of 平家 Hei-ke the Taira clan[v] moved to the area at the end of the 11th century and built a fortified residence[vi] on a hill overlooking the sea. As was common practice for new branch families with new fiefs, they took the name of the village 江戸郷 Edo-gō as their own and they became the 平江戸氏 Taira Edo-shi Edo branch of the Taira clan[vii]. In the 12th century, the area prospered due to its proximity to the capital of the Minamoto shōguns in Kamakura. However, it seems the Edo clan didn’t do much to develop the area’s rivers[viii].

In those days, the now long gone 日比谷入江 Hibiya Irie Hibiya Inlet was a saltwater inlet used for 海苔 nori seaweed farming[ix]. There was a certain freshwater river known as 平川 Hirakawa “the wide river” which emptied into the inlet. This fresh water river originally made up part of the natural boundary between 武蔵国豊島郡 Musashi no Kuni Toshima-gun Toshima District, Musashi Province and 武蔵国江原郡 Musashi no Kuni Ebara-gun Ebara Province, Musashi Province. This fresh water tributary seems to be where the story of the Kanda River begins.

 

Edo Hamlet

 

Fast Forward a Few Centuries

By the 15th century, Japan was balls deep in the bloody, sweaty mess that was the Sengoku Period[x] and Ōta Dōkan found himself re-fortifying the Edo family’s fort in Chiyoda using water from the coastline and other small rivers with the latest moat-building technology of his day. The new and improved “Edo Fort” he built for the 上杉氏 Uesugi-shi Uesugi clan brought new channels and waterways into the village. This manipulation of water provided tactical advantages to the new fort in that food and goods could come in and there were more escape routes. There were now logical, defensible waterways. Lucky side effect, certain areas of the village were less exposed than before and local merchants and fishermen had new distribution routes and… BOOM!  Ladies and gentleman, we have a budding 城下町 jōka machi castle town[xi].

Although all of Dōkan’s efforts were pioneering and crucial in the taming of the rivers and sea and urban planning of Edo-Tōkyō, one of the most important changes to Edo’s waterways was diverting the 平川 Hirakawa the ancient “wide river” eastward into what is today called the 日本橋川 Nihonbashi-gawa Nihonbashi River. This is critical to our story today. And the place where this new confluence occurred is actually marked by a bridge called the 神田橋 Kandabashi Kanda Bridge. The Hirakawa River doesn’t exist anymore, but a quick look at a map of Edo Castle will show you a 平川門 Hirakawa Mon Hirakawa Gate and 平川濠 Hirakawa-bori Harakawa Moat[xii]; the former, the gate that stood guard on the moat[xiii]; the latter, a vestige of the old river itself. Today, 平川見附 Hirakawa Mitsuke the bridge and fortified gate installation on the moat is a popular sightseeing spot.

 

Part of Edo Castle today. At the top, notice Hirakawa Gate and at the bottom right, notice the Ote Mon (main gate). They are on the same moat. That is the former Hirakawa.

Part of Edo Castle today. At the top, notice Hirakawa Gate and at the bottom right, notice the Ote Mon (main gate).
They are on the same moat. That is the former Hirakawa.
I used JCastle.info to generate this map. Click on the picture to find THE premiere website on Japanese Castles in English.

 

So, as I’ve said before – and will say again – Tokugawa Ieyasu moved into an Edo that was well fortified, strategically sound, and extremely defensible by sea and by land. Oh, and did I mention, there was a burgeoning village life, supported by fishermen, farmers, and artisans[xiv]. Between Ōta Dōkan’s time and the time Ieyasu entered Edo, a technological revolution had occurred in Japan. From Nobunaga’s rise to power on, Japanese castles began to take on the look of what we think of today when someone says “Japanese Castle.[xv]” The castles of the Tokugawa Period are based on these new advances in castle building technology and reflected the amount of luxury the ruling class could not just afford, but were expected to maintain to project their image of superiority.

 

hirakawa

 

 

OK, OK! Castles, Can We Please Get Back to the River?

Yes, of course. Sorry for getting distracted.

(But we’re probably coming back to castles)

The Tokugawa Shōgunate kept meticulous records of the changes they made to the area. The great waterworks projects were no exception. But I’m not going to get into every change they made. It’s so boring it’s unreal. So let’s just look at some of the major changes and what I think are the takeaways of what created the Kanda River.

Since I got distracted, let’s go back to the beginning.The beginning of the story is 1456-1457, when Ōta Dōkan began manipulating waterways to build moats for his pre-cursor to Edo Castle – though work on the moats most likely preceded construction of the fortress, so we might say 1455-1457. In 1486, Dōkan was assassinated and in 1524 the 江戸合戦 Edo Gassen Battle of Edo saw the rise of influence of the 後北条氏 Go-Hōjō-shi and the decline of the Ōta and Uesugi. This meant that the fortifications in 千代田 Chiyoda[xvi] (the area where the Sengoku forts where built and the fields around them) were abandoned and lay fallow for almost 70 years[xvii].

In 1590, Tokugawa Ieyasu transferred his clan and top retainers to Edo and began modernizing the old Sengoku Period fortifications of the Edo and Ōta. He cautiously applied some of the latest castle building technology following the examples of Oda Nobunaga and Toyotomi Hideyoshi. It’s said that the 大手御門 Ōte Go-mon Main Gate was one of the first construction project undertaken and this required crossing an existing moat – one affiliated with the later Kanda Aqueduct/Hirakawa.

The Ote-mon (main gate) at the time of the collapse of the shogunate.

The Ote-mon (main gate) after the Meiji Coup.

 

1603 is the watershed moment. Ieyasu is named 征夷大将軍 seii tai-shōgun shōgun and is the effective military ruler of Japan. From this point, the real history of the Kanda River begins. In 1604, Nihonbashi is built and the 5 Great Highways of Edo are defined. Strict entry & exit points by land and by river are laid out in order to preserve the new Tokugawa hegemony. Edo’s waterways are no longer “just Edo waterways;” they are tactical routes, trade routes, and a means of regulating nature for the protection of the commoners who lived along the rivers and were, essentially, part of the city’s infrastructure. In short, the rivers of Edo became a stabilizing mechanism for the shōgun’s capital.

 

Hirakawa Gate when Edo Castle still had a tenshukaku (that tower thingy).

The Ote-mon (main gate) when Edo Castle still had a tenshukaku (that tower thingy). Tokugawa Power! Activate! This is where the name Otemachi comes from.

 

From 1616 to 1620, during the reign of 2nd shōgun Tokugawa Hidetada, something really resembling a “Kanda River” in a modern sense came in to existence. This is when the 神田山 Kandayama “Kanda Mountain”[xviii] was cut through and the Kanda River and Nihonbashi River became 2 discrete waterways. Kanda and Ryōgoku began to take on unique personalities at this time.

Colorized photo of the Hirakawa Gate. Check out how bad ass the castle was. Truly something to behold.

Colorized photo of the Hirakawa Gate.
Check out how bad ass the castle was. Truly something to behold.

 

In 1657, disaster struck on a colossal scale. The 明暦大家 Meireki Fire[xix] ripped through the city destroying well over half of the metropolis[xx]. Although city planning was essential from the beginning, the shōgunate hadn’t anticipated the rapid growth that accompanied their sankin-kōtai policy and just the economic stability brought on by… um, stability in general.

 

img_0

Edo Castle was a city within a city, When the main keep burned down, budgets and policies were reconsidered.

 

In part of the rebuilding efforts after the Meireki Fire, from 1659-1661 various waterways in Edo were widened and more open space along the rivers was added. Edo grew so rapidly after the arrival of the Tokugawa, that the city had become a firetrap[xxi].

 

sakurameguri22l

Ryogoku Bridge today

 

By some accounts, 60%-70% may have be burnt to the ground. Given the relative clean slate available to the shōgunate after this particular conflagration, certain rivers were designated as firebreaks and widened to keep fires localized[xxii]. It’s at this time that the Kanda River was dramatically widened – most notably, at the confluence of the Kanda River and Ryōgoku River, the 両国橋 Ryōgokubashi Ryōgoku Bridge was built. Even today, the expanse of the river here is something to see, but in the Edo Period, with no buildings over 2 stories, it was clearly a sight to behold. Soon the area became famous for a dazzling annual fireworks display in the summer[xxiii]. Some of the most iconic 浮世絵 ukiyo-e “scenes of the transient world” come from this area. The 江戸東京博物館 Edo-Tōkyō Hakubutsukan Edo-Tōkyō Museum is located in this area… for obvious reasons.

 

From its spring in Inokashira Park, the Kanda river begins its exit from the well.  Ganbare, Kanda-chan!

From its spring in Inokashira Park, the Kanda river begins its exit from the well.
Ganbare, Kanda-chan!

 

As I mentioned before, the official headwaters are 井之頭池 Inokashira Ike Inokashira Lake, but the river has no officially designated end point but it’s fairly certain that it ultimately empties into Tōkyō Bay. Traditionally it ends at 飯田橋 Iidabashi. The reason there’s no official ending point is because the Kanda River empties into a few rivers and drainage channels along the way before it ultimately fizzles out into the 隅田川 Sumida-gawa Sumida River at 両国橋 Ryōgokubashi Ryōgoku Bridge. If you’ve been following this series, you’ll probably be aware that the names and courses of these rivers have been changing over time and that some stretches of one river may have had multiple names depending on the area. So yeah… welcome back to the Confus-o-dome.

Thanks to the Showa Era, this is the Iidamachi Bridge (Iidabashi).  Gross.

Thanks to the Showa Era, this is the Iidamachi Bridge (Iidabashi).
Gross.

The Kanda River’s Legacy

The man-made Edo Era waterway that flowed from Inokashira Pond was called the 神田上水 Kanda Jōsui. Longtime readers should know what a 上水 jōsui is. But just a refresher, a jōsui is a conduit of “imported” water. This water flowed from 三鷹 Mitaka[xxiv] to Edo Castle; it also supplied drinking water to the daimyō mansions that lined its course.

 

The creation of the Kanda River. (by the way, this is the worst info-graphic ever)

The creation of the Kanda River in Chiyoda from the Hibiya Inlet.

The Kanda Jōsui is considered the first real aqueduct system in Japan. Before I mentioned the technological revolution in castle construction, right? Well, the Sengoku Period began stabilizing and yes, castle building was a status thing. But the distribution of water and water management showed one of the greatest advances in urban planning and administration that Japan had seen in centuries. This is why shōgunate’s founder, Tokugawa Ieyasu, was such a bad ass. The dude could lead an army here or there, but he had ideas about civil administration and surrounded himself with people who could advise him on these things. Oda Nobunaga and Toyotomi Hideyoshi were essentially one-trick-ponies who couldn’t really get out of the 戦国病気 Sengoku Byōki “Sengoku Rut.”[xxv] Ieyasu, also a product of that generation, realized that infrastructure reinforced military supremacy and brought economic stability[xxvi].

 

The Kanda Aqueduct

The Kanda Aqueduct

Admittedly, it’s not that exciting or cool, but the availability of clean drinking water and disposal of dirty water should never be underestimated in the study of any ancient or pre-modern city[xxvii].

The capital of the Tokugawa shōguns quickly became the biggest city in Japan and eventually the most populous city in the world. Clean water and sewerage undeniably played a part in this. But soon the Kanda Jōsui wasn’t enough. That said, it was the main source of drinking water for Edo Castle during the Edo Period.

Even if it was inadequate to supply the entire sprawling capital, Kanda Jōsui was such a successful project that it begot 6 more major waterworks in Edo, all of which benefited daimyō, samurai, and the commoner population. Of course, this technology spread throughout the realm, but for short while Edo boasted one of the most unique water infrastructures in Japan.

 

HSD10003

 

A Final Note

If you’re up for an interesting bike ride, a 2010 blog post at Metropolis suggests starting at the mouth of the river and riding upstream to Inokashira Pond. When the temperature starts to come down, I may give this a go myself. There are loads of spots, many covered in JapanThis!, along the course of the river, so it should be fascinating.

 

 

 

If you like JapanThis, please donate. 
Seriously, it helps. 

Click Here to Donate
or
Click Here to Buy Awesome Nerdy J-History Goods

 

 

 


[i] I know that’s not the kind of helpful explanation that will bring closure to any of the etymology fans out there.
[ii] As I said, I’m gonna revisit this topic again.
[iii] Any relation to ヨドバシカメラ Yodobashi Camera? Why, yes there is. Thank you for asking.
[iv] And calling Dōkan’s fortifications a “castle” is also a debatable point. I’ve come to prefer the term “well-moated fort.” I came up with that term all on my own… right now. Thank you very much.
[v] If you don’t know who the Taira clan is… wow. OK, here you go.
[vi] Also, as mentioned in my article on What does Edo mean?, the coastal area is littered with 古墳 kofun burial mounds and it’s clear from the archaeology that the area has been inhabited since Paleolithic times. It’s highly doubtful the Edo clan was the first strongmen to seize upon this highly defensible, coastal plateau – they are the noblest recorded family, though.
[vii] Even though other temples and villages in the area are mentioned as far back as the Heian Period, it’s seems like the name Edo itself doesn’t actually appear in any records until the Kamakura Period.
[viii] In fact the original Edo “Castle” was probably just a 出城 dejiro satellite fort, since the Edo clan seemed to have their main residence in 喜多見 Kitami in present 世田谷区 Setagaya-ku Setagaya Ward.
[ix] I have an article about Hibiya.
[x] And while this may sound like a gratuitous reference to sex on the rag, this is actually a legitimate, historical term. Ask any historian of Pre-Modern Japan. They’ll tell you. Just ask. Seriously.
[xi] Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I said “budding.” When we say “castle” and “castle town” today we are usually referring to a construct of the far more stable Azuchi-Momoyama Period (ie; essentially the end of the Sengoku Period).
[xii] On Edo Era maps these may be listed with honorifics as 平川御門 Hirakawa Go-Mon Hirakawa Gate and 平川御堀 Hirakawa O-Hori Hirakawa Moat, respectively.
[xiii] Interestingly, some people think the radius and extent of Ōta Dōkan’s moats was the result of him not having a fucking clue what he was doing. His initial “improvements” lead to more flooding and so he continually modified his plans, diverting rivers away from the castle and the villages by extending them further and further out. Thus part of the sprawling nature of Edo Castle may have been due to stop-gap measures employed by Dōkan.
[xiv] Yes, I did.
[xv] This is as different as when we use the Latin words castrum to describe a Roman military camp/walled town and a castellum a walled fortification of Late Antiquity. The transformation is truly dramatic.
[xvi] You can see my article on Chiyoda here.
[xvii] The castle itself was pretty minor and was most likely not affected by the Late Hōjō efforts to refortify the Edo area from 1583 on.
[xviii] Kandayama was located in present day 駿河台 Surugadai.
[xix] “What’s the Meireki Fire?” you ask. There’s an article for that.
[xx] By some accounts, 70% of the city may have been destroyed.
[xxi] This didn’t change until the reconstruction of the city after WWII (or, some may argue that it didn’t change until the 1960’s and that the city just got lucky with no major conflagrations in the interim).
[xxii] In theory…
[xxiii] People today love fireworks. Just imagine what people with no video, no cameras, and no Perfume must have thought of these theatrical celebrations of summer.
[xxiv] Essentially, present-day Kichijōji.
[xxv] Again, my word. I just made it up now. And yes, I’m just baiting Sengoku lovers. Actually, I like Nobunaga, too.
[xxvi] And far more importantly, put his family in a seemingly endless position as hereditary top of the food chain. Hmmmmmmmmmm…
[xxvii] And you probably never think about where your water comes from or how it gets to your house and where it all goes afterwards, but it works, right? That’s why you can live there.

%d bloggers like this: